Dragonboy: The Destined Heir
by sjm95x
Summary: Some call him Raiden. Others, Dragonboy. At age 7, he runs away into the unknown. At age 10, he's an artist. At age 12, he's a hero in disguise. But happens when tragedy strikes and spreads like a plague? Multi-reality AU. Rated M to be safe. HP/DG/KB
1. The Apocalypse

_Disclaimer_: Harry Potter and any such related characters/symbols/ideas/etc. are in direct correlation to J.K. Rowling as of the year 2011.

_Rating_: PG-15 for language and possibly explicit scenes.

_Categories_: Angst/Adventure/Action/Humor/Fantasy/Semi-Romance/Sci-fi/Parody (Basically a bit of everything). Mainly parody/humor with a lot of action/adventure.

Summary: Raised by his godfather, Harry Potter uses his superior warding skills to get through his teenage life. He is forced to attend Hogwarts, where he makes loyal friends, girlfriends, and enemies. Story will cross-over with other fictional worlds later on. Harry Potter/Katie Bell/Daphne Greengrass major pairing. Perhaps one more pairing. Not completely a Harem fanfic.

_Warnings_: Very AU! Basically, an AU inside of another AU based off of canon. Also, OOC for many characters. In addition, minor Weasley and Hermione bashing. Confused Dumbledore.

_Read this is ½ or ¾ view!_

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Prologue: The Apocalypse

Harry Potter cautiously stepped into the halls of Azkaban. It was a bitter-cold Friday afternoon. Harry Potter was dressed like a lord – elegant black silk robes, thundering basilisk-enhanced armor, and warm, brown, and furry charm-resistant boots.

He was no older than eighteen years of age. Yet, his face was etched with so much worry that it could rival with Dumbledore's, were he still alive.

Harry pondered how to infiltrate the prison without alerting the other prisoners of his presence. He searched his side pockets and sighed with relief as he felt something soft and slippery at the tips of his fingers. Thanking his good luck, he whipped out a silvery cloak. Harry quickly wrapped the cloak around his body, rendering his body completely invisible to the human eye.

Harry dashed across the lifeless hallways. There were prison cells on either side, full of helpless Death Eaters and criminals. Harry quickly sidled up against the wall and began making his way up the long, narrow, spiral staircase that led to the most-dangerously guarded of prisoners. That was his destination.

He began to climb the fifteen flights of stairs. He climbed farther and father. And with each step, his heart beat faster and faster. With each step, the air around him dropped by a few degrees. And with each step, something inside of him broke.

Eventually, Harry reached the top level of Azkaban prison. He looked around the fairly deserted floor.

The hallway was identical to the ones directly below. The only difference was that the prisons on either side were empty. There weren't many prisoners up here, just one. His name was Draco Malfoy.

Harry's heart clenched as he neared Draco's prison. It was guarded by no less than fifteen dementors. All of which were at most, two feet away from him. Harry's gaze left the black masses of dementors and landed upon a heap of something on the ground. Harry felt remorse towards the shivering pale figure on the ground.

Gulping, Harry took off his cloak and took out the white Elder Wand. He pointed it at the area directly in front of him and croaked, "_Expecto Patronum_."

There was a crack, and then a rumbling bang. The Death Stick gave a quiver. Then, a golden mist erupted from the white wand. The golden mist settled down next to the huddled group of dementors harassing Draco Malfoy and materialized into a golden, corporeal stag.

Inhumane and shrill screams followed as the black cloaked creatures backed away. The creatures looked up and saw their nemesis – Harry Potter, the Conqueror. Out of terror, the dementors immediately fled without the slightest hesitation. The golden stag then continued towards the limp figure on the ground and fed some life back into the heartless prisoner.

Draco Malfoy looked up at Harry Potter. His dull blue eyes met Harry's vibrant emerald green.

"Why?" Harry croaked. "Why did you do it, Draco? Please . . . I just need to know."

Draco opened his mouth and licked his cracked whitened lips. "I didn't do it."

Harry's aura flashed violently, forcing Draco to cower in front of such immense power. "Stop it. Just tell me. Why did you kill her? Were you jealous? Why did you hurt me? You vowed to always be there. Then why did you do it Drake?"

Draco began to cry. "I didn't do it. I'm innocent Harry. I swear!" He fell to the ground and began to weep even harder. The golden stag looked Harry in the eyes and sent a look of resentment, as if saying 'Stop being such a bitch.'

Harry bit his lip. He hadn't been there for Draco's trial. But Draco had been convicted of the murder of his wife. The Weasleys had seen to that. And he trusted the Weasleys a lot, even more than he had once trusted Draco. But what if Draco had been falsely convicted? Like Sirius Black?

"But you had a trial." Harry croaked, hoping that he was wrong. Hoping that Draco was guilty and innocent at the same time.

"It wasn't a fair trial." Draco whimpered. "The Weasels bribed ministry officials to convict me."

Anger flashed across Harry's face. "THE WEASLEYS WOULD NEVER DO THAT!" Harry gritted his teeth and shook his head. "You know what Drake; I'll just forget we ever met here. I'm actually looking forward to the Dementor's Kiss tomorrow. It'll serve you right." He was about to turn around when . . . .

"I, Draco Malfoy, swear upon my remaining life and magic that I never betrayed Harry James Potter Pendragon willingly and never participated in the murder of Daphne Potter née Greengrass. So mote it!"

Harry turned around and gaped as a white light erupted from Draco's chest and engulfed him completely. After a few seconds, Draco looked up at Harry and grinned weakly.

"See, I'm still alive." He coughed a bit but managed to stay up, with the support of the wall.

Harry's mind began to race at the top acceleration of a Firebolt. This couldn't be happening! He shook his head, not convinced. "You're lying. You obviously lost all your magic."

Draco grimly shook his head. "Why don't you believe me, Harry?" Harry gulped, refusing to reason with logic. "Fine." Draco held up his trembling right hand, and whimpered, "_Lumos_." To Harry's surprise, a dim blue light erupted from his hand and hovered in the air for a few seconds before shimmering away.

During their Hocrux hunt, Daphne, Harry, and Draco had all learned wandless magic. It was still surprising that Draco could perform even the slightest of magic, considering that he had been exposed to such extreme conditions in Azkaban prison.

Harry gasped and quickly rushed over to the bars behind which Draco was struggling to keep alive. "Wait . . . you're telling the truth?"

Draco panted and fell to the floor, obviously in extreme condition due to magical and physical fatigue. Harry bit his lip and internally smacked himself for not having listened to his former best friend earlier.

Feeling obligated to free Draco, Harry gripped the bars and pressed on them hard. He clenched his fists around the bars and felt the metal crack. And then, the barred prison door shattered and clanked to the floor. Wasting no time, Harry rushed over to Draco and felt his pulse. There was still a pulse. Draco Malfoy was still alive.

"Griphook!" Harry shouted. After a minute's pause, there was a loud earth-shattering bang and a goblin appeared accompanied by two others.

"Lord Pendragon, we are at your service." Griphook bowed deeply. The other two followed suit.

"I need for you to reinstate Draco Malfoy as a powerful equal to Lord Pendragon." At the shocked faces of the four goblins, he continued. "He has been wronged by ministry officials. He must be provided with the best care there is in the goblin world. Have the elves help with his healing process. He has been wrongly imprisoned."

Griphook nodded. "We warned you earlier, milord. But you refused to listen."

Harry sighed. "Yeah, I know. And also, put the Weasley's on hold. They are no longer my allies, as of now. And Granger as well."

Griphook nodded, grinning. "We knew you would get back into your senses. Especially after they clearly abandoned you in your sixth and seventh years at Hogwarts." Harry nodded in acknowledgment. Griphook took a bow and began tending to Draco. "Picknose and Scratchquill, come here and help me tend to our lord's equal." Harry watched as the other goblins began to perform magical remedies to revive Draco.

Harry sighed. He needed to see the Weasleys. What the hell were they playing at?

OoOoO

Harry Potter apparated just outside of the ward radius of the Burrow. The house stood upright, the floors made of hardwood, put together in the fashion of a Lego creation. The house was in no even pattern whatsoever, completely asymmetrical.

A light flickered on the topmost floor. It obviously was the new couple's bedroom. Ron and Hermione were now husband and wife.

Harry took a deep breath and stepped into the wards. He was keyed into the wards so the Weasleys were obviously alerted of his presence instantly. He continued walking towards the entrance. Today was the twins' birthday party and he had been invited. Not that he wanted to. It was also the day his wife had been murdered, exactly one year ago. But nonetheless, the Fred and George were important to him, especially after how helpful they had been in killing off Voldemort's army in the final battle.

Harry frowned. But why wasn't the birthday party being held over at their apartment, located above their prank shop in Diagon Alley? That was odd . . . .

Harry frowned a bit more. The house was quiet, too quiet for a birthday party! He couldn't hear much of a racket coming from the kitchen. Harry expected there to be tons of guests. After all, the Weasley twins were pretty famous back at Hogwarts.

Harry sighed. He just wanted the truth about everything.

Suddenly, the front door clicked open. Mrs. Weasley and Ginny stepped out, giving off their most-entrancing of smiles.

"Oh Harry!" Ginny rushed up and eagerly hugged him. Harry cautiously hugged her back, but with much less ferocity. He considered it to be more of a brother-sister hug.

Mrs. Weasley smiled her bitter-sweet smile. "Harry, we're glad that you could make it. Come in, if you will." Harry nodded and allowed Ginny to lead him inside.

"Why don't you and Ginny catch up on things while I go set up everything for the party." She discretely winked and left the two. Harry was clearly not amused by Mrs. Weasley's antics. It was obvious that she was trying to set Harry and Ginny up in some sort of unworkable relationship.

Harry entered the living room and knew something was definitely wrong. There were no signs of other guests! And worst of all, he couldn't spot the Weasley twins!

Ginny tried to drag Harry off to her room, but Harry held his ground. "Where are the twins? It's their birthday party after all, right?"

Ginny frowned. "Don't worry, they'll be coming later on in the night. Come on, I have to show you something in my room." She smiled, flashing her white teeth in his direction. When Harry rolled his eyes, she pouted and snuggled into his chest. "Come on Harry, how are we going to work our relationship if we never snog privately?"

Harry gaped. "Are you nuts Ginerva? I don't even know you that well! There's nothing going on between us!"

"Oh come off it, Harry. I know you're secretly attracted to me. We're a perfect match. I look just like your mother. So, we're perfect in every way." She nodded confidently.

Harry snarled. "I'm going to go check on Hermione and Ron."

Ginny wrinkled up her nose and pouted. "Why can't we just work this out? Surely, I'm a better match than that Daphne slut." Ginny instantly gasped and covered her mouth, hoping Harry hadn't heard the last part of her sentence.

Harry's gaze hardened. He turned to face Ginny, who cowered a bit under his gaze. "Listen to me right now, Ginerva. I will never – I repeat – NEVER have feelings towards you. And if you call Daphne a slut one more time, I'll personally make sure you're infertile for the rest of your life. Do I make myself clear?"

Ginny wasn't stupid. It wasn't the best idea in the world to go up against the Man-Who-Conquered single-handed. _Key word, single-handed_. She cracked a reassuring smile and bobbed her head.

"Good," Harry grumbled and headed towards the stairs. "Where's the bathroom again?" He turned back and asked.

Ginny, unable to form coherent thoughts at the moment, pointed towards the room next to hers. Harry shrugged.

As soon as he had left, redhead girl rushed into the kitchen.

"Mum!" She whispered harshly. "It's not working. The love potion isn't working at all. How are we supposed to get together? He absolutely loathes me!"

Mrs. Weasley's warm smile left her face. "Just keep him here for a few more minutes. I'll call over Arthur, Bill, and Charlie. And bring down Hermione and Ronald too. We'll need all the manpower that we can get for the plan to work."

Ginny frowned. "What about Percy and the twins?"

Mrs. Weasley huffed. "They outright disagreed to take part in the plan. I'll have you know that they have been obliviated and kicked out of the family."

Ginny nodded. And then, she let a creepy smile etch across her face. "By the end of the day, I'll be Mrs. Potter, the richest woman in Great Britain!" Mrs. Weasley simply smiled and patted Ginny on the back.

Harry Potter looked in the mirror. His face was red with anger. _How dare Ginny insult Daphne like that!_ Harry grabbed a fistful of his unruly hair and sighed. Maybe going to the Weasleys' house wasn't such a bright idea after all.

"Harry, are you in there?" Mrs. Weasley's voice echoed from outside the bathroom. Harry sighed. "Come down quick. We're starting supper now. The party will start soon."

Harry heard footsteps go fade away. Harry looked around and noticed a small round window. It was his only escape, if he wanted to escape. His gut told him that something terrible was going to happen. And it kept motioning Harry towards the window. Was his animal war instinct telling him to get out of the house as soon as possible? Why?

Harry inhaled deeply. I can do this, Harry muttered to himself, fingering the Elder Wand in his hand. The Invisibility Cloak was discretely wrapped around his waist, and he was wearing the Peverell ring, which was now embedded with the Resurrection Stone.

He had all three Deathly Hallows. Nobody knew that he was the true Conqueror of Death.

_If the Weasleys try anything . . ._ Harry laughed out loud. They couldn't do anything! He would live . . . no matter what. Nothing could go wrong, right?

But his gut refused to side with him this time. His gut had always agreed his past actions. And his gut had always been right.

When he had wanted to go rescue the Sorcerer's Stone in the first year, his gut had readily agreed. When he had wanted to enter the Chamber of Secrets, his gut had readily agreed. When he had wanted to sacrifice himself in front of Voldemort, his gut had readily agreed.

But when Harry had wanted to go to the Department of Mysteries to save Sirius, his gut had readily refused to side with him. When he had wanted to ask the Weasleys and Hermione for help while searching for Hocruxes, his gut had readily denied to side with him. And now, his gut was telling him that he was wrong. Something was wrong. But . . . what?

Harry gulped and washed his hands thoroughly. After a while, he opened the door with a click and went down towards the kitchen.

On the table, Bill and Charlie were seated at one end, fervently discussing something important, perhaps something about dragons? Hermione and Ron were grinning like Cheshire cats, possibly talking about their latest orgasm? Molly and Arthur were whispering something in low voices, perhaps deciding whether they should use contraceptive potions, spells, or plain simple condoms for the night? And Ginny was busy day-dreaming, probably about the most efficient way to finger herself?

Harry gave a fake smile. "Hi everybody."

"Hey Harry, long time no see mate." Ron got up and shook his hand, giving him a loud thump on his back. It was a manly hug, full of masculinity. Nothing more, nothing less. Yet, why did it feel like this would be the last time that Harry got this kind of hug from his best friend Ron?

Hermione followed suit, except she squeezed the life out of him. "Good to see you, Harry."

Bill and Charlie gave their nods of greetings. Finally, Ginny came up and led him to the vacant seat next to hers. "Have a seat." Harry frowned but politely followed her. He looked down at the inviting tray of food in front of him and grinned. Following Ron's food habits, he began to gobble down the boiled chicken and pasta.

"So, how have you been coping?" Arthur asked. He seemed sincere, but there was an odd and peculiar gleam in his eyes. "You know, with your wife's death?"

Harry felt a lump in his throat but quickly gulped down a glass of water. "I'm coping fine." Harry failed to elaborate. "Say, where are Fred and George? I know Percy was a prat, but what about the birthday boys? They're still not here?"

Molly bit her lip but quickly straightened her demeanor and gave him a warm smile. "Oh, you know how busy my boys can be sometimes. They're probably still cleaning up. They'll be here any minute. So, how do feel about marriage? Have you considered it yet?"

Harry spewed a bit of the water onto his shirt. "Um, excuse me." He coughed out loud and turned to face Molly. "I don't feel comfortable talking about this topic." He added nicely, before continuing to hobble down the luscious mouth-watering food in small amounts.

He frowned as he caught the smell of a familiar potion in his drink. Shrugging, Harry gulped down the pumpkin juice. A small tingle irritated his throat but went away as quickly as it had appeared. Harry looked around and caught the rest of the family staring at him intently. Were they expecting something to happen? _Oh well, sucks for them._

A few minutes past and nobody spoke a word. Finally, Harry got fed up with delays and excuses and fingered his white wand. "Okay, just bloody tell me the truth. Stop making excuses and tell me where the hell the two of them are. What's going on guys?" Harry got up from the dinner table and backed away. Something was definitely wrong. Harry didn't need his instinct to figure that much out.

"Harry, nothing's wrong." Hermione frowned. "Are you feeling alright?"

Harry sighed. "I have to go to the bathroom. Just feeling extreme paranoia, I guess. Post trauma from the war, you know?" Hermione nodded. But as soon as he turned around, he knew he had made a big mistake. Moody had always said to never turn your back on anybody. Not even your friends.

Because chances are, your friends will always be at your side, never _behind_, never in _front_.

"_Imperio_!" Harry gaped from shock as he heard someone from behind mutter the Unforgivable curse. The white spell erupted from Ginerva's wand and impacted Harry's back. Harry stood there, his eyes glazed.

"I want you to come back and snog me senseless, Harry." Ginny sweetly chirped. The people on the table all chuckled, to Harry's surprise. What kind of sick joke was this?

To their surprise, Harry simpered. "Fuck you."

But Ron smiled back. "Good job, Potter. Let's see how you cope with two of them. _Imperio_!"

A second burst of light later, Harry's vision began to blur as his consciousness tried to fight a losing battle between him and the enemy's command.

After much difficulty, Harry shook off the curse for a while and made a run for the front door. Half-way across the room, he fell to his feet.

"_Imperio_!" Bill and Charlie Weasley enchanted the Unforgivable curse at the same time. Harry clutched his head as his mind began to blaze with extreme pain. He had never been able to fight off more than four Imperius curses before!

Bill smirked. "Now, now. Don't try to fight it. Come here and sign this piece of parchment." Harry regretfully obliged and followed Bill's pointed hand. There, on the table, was a white piece of parchment with ink blots or writing. It read:

_I, Harry James Potter Pendragon, to hereby issue this will valid._

_I give all the Weasley's full access to the Potter, Black, and Peverell vaults._

_I admit that Ginerva Weasley is my second wife and pass on all assets that are not render-able to non-family members. I hereby claim her as the new Mrs. Potter._

_Signature: .,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,._

Harry looked back at the grinning faces of the Weasels.

"Sign it, sweetheart," Ginny cooed, stroking his cheek.

Harry closed his eyes and tried to fight back control over his own body. He thought about Daphne. The _rightful_ wife Potter. He thought about the son she would have bore for him. And he let slip a few tears.

"Damn you," he grumbled and lashed out his white wand. Instantly, he was hit by two more Imperius curses. From Molly and Arthur, this time. Harry screamed as he tried to fight off six simultaneous Imperius curses. But it seemed impossible.

Harry clenched the sides of the wooden table. _I can do this_. Harry was determined. He had been able to do the impossible before. He could do it again!

But his gut internally laughed at him. Nope, he was screwed. His luck had to run out at some time.

Harry cried as his hand reached across the table and grabbed the quill. It was a blood quill. His hand reached across and began to stroke the piece of parchment. Against his will, his hand began to scribble something next to the wretched word, 'Signature.'

With every word, a drop of blood was shed. And with every stroke, Harry thought of another reason to suicide.

And then, it stopped. Harry looked back at the piece of parchment. It glowed golden before returning to a pale yellow. The Weasleys smiled and let out whoops of glee and mirth.

Ginny went over and smashed her lips onto Harry's. For a few minutes, she kept her kips pressed to his. Harry tried to stop her, push her off. Anything! Alas, it was no use. Life was no longer worth living. His friends and almost-family members had betrayed him!

And then Ginny withdrew with a sad look on her face. "I'm going to miss you, Harry."

Harry frowned. He opened his dry mouth to speak. But he couldn't.

Ginny smiled. "Goodbye." Harry's frown deepened. "Kill yourself, Harry."

Harry's insides began to rumble. _NO!_ He couldn't kill himself. _No! I'm the Conqueror of Death!_ The rest of the Weasleys saw him struggle and shook their heads.

Ginny turned towards Hermione. "Will you do the honors?"

"With pleasure," she smiled cruelly, greed rolling off of her cinnamon brown eyes. "_Imperio_! Kill yourself now!"

Who would have ever guessed it? They were all traitors. True blood traitors. True blood traitors were those who betrayed their own people for lust, money, and worldly gains. The Weasleys were a fraud; an insult to mankind. A total disgrace. Harry had put his faith in the wrong people. They had stung back when he was most vulnerable. That's how life worked.

Blood traitor. The word rang inside Harry's head as he tried to fight off the seven simultaneous _Imperius _curses. Of course, he tried. But he lost in the end. It was too much for any one individual wizard to handle. The strain was too much. Something inside of Harry's mind finally broke. The mental shackles began to pull his mind deeper into the endless pit of doom; into submission.

Harry screamed as he raised the white wand and pressed the tip of it against his own chest. He had lost. The great Harry Potter had broken at last. "No!" The young man struggled, his face turning a wretched purple. His heart began to beat rapidly. "Pl-lease . . . n-no . . . _Avada Ked_ . . . _Avada Ked_ . . . _Avada Kedavra_!"

A pale green curse emitted from the white wand and hit Harry head-on. The powerful impact knocked the young man off of his feet. Harry flew a few feet into the air and fell down with a loud THUMP!

The Weasleys began to chuckle loudly. Little did they know that they had just provoked the greatest of dangers. The Apocalypse.

Harry Potter's body began to shimmer and convulse. The occupants of the room all pointed their wands at his body, wondering how he was still alive. And then, the body of Harry James Potter turned into a dark black shadow.

The body lost all features of the ordinary human body. It lost all color. The new shadow was made of pure dark magic and covered completely with a thin layer of antimatter. It wasn't ordinary antimatter either. It was magically-inhibited antimatter. If one were to do tests, he or she would find that the aura that surrounded the man consisted of antihydrogen and anticarbon. Some seriously nasty stuff.

And if the figure wanted to, he could unleash the magical inhibitors, making his aura vehemently lethal to any source of matter nearby. If he wanted, anything that came within ten centimeters could be immediately obliterated from mere existence. If he wanted, he could destroy everything in his path.

The shadowy figure got up. The dark silhouette of his body didn't match his shadow. His body was deranged; his shadow was in the shape of an elongated ellipse. The luminescent shadow directly below seemed to be cackling with glee right behind him.

The black figure looked in the direction of the Weasleys and let out a hearty laugh. "Humankind is indeed full of stupidity. Nothing more indeed. Well, I only have one word for all of you . . . fuckyou!"

~~~ Scene Alert ~~~

Before anyone could say a word, the creature flew towards Ginerva Weasley and grabbed her neck. Within seconds, her skin began to bleed a crimson red. Something black reaped into her soft, pale skin. The substance turned her blood black upon contact and continued downstream inside of her vessels. The unknown substance began depriving the red blood cells of hemoglobin, cutting off the girl's chance of survival. Before anyone could get over the shock of the figure attacking Ginerva Weasley, the figure ripped out the insides of her throat. He smiled, eyes full of lust for blood.

"You bastard!" Six simultaneous killing curses made their way towards the black figure. But at the last minute, the paths of the green curses were reversed 180 degrees, hitting the respective casters. In just ten seconds, all six occupants dropped dead to the ground. Lifeless bodies. Worthless souls.

Apocalypse smiled. _Foolish humans_. _They_ had destroyed their own hero. They had destroyed the very balance of life. And now, they had to pay for their greed and ungratefulness. Today, the sky would fall!

He looked down at the disfigured girl's body. Shaking his head, he brutally grabbed her shoulder blades and squeezed his claws into the soft cartilage. They began to bleed. They bled peacefully. The unknown black plasma ebbed into her skin and the molecules within slowly popped away from existence upon contact.

Apocalypse shook his head. They had wronged the wrong person. Harry Potter was special. Harry was his magical godson!

Apocalypse snarled and clawed his way down the girl's bloody abdomen, unleashing his silent rage on the girl. He wrenched out her liver, pancreas, and stomach, one by one. He took his time as he disintegrated each part of her body. And finally, he clawed at her disfigured back, ripping out her spinal cord, detaching it from the back of her rib cage brutally.

He crushed the spinal cord in his bare hands. Satisfied, he unleashed his own pure dark magic, banishing her soul to No Man's Land. This way, her soul would never exist in any other reality.

~~~ End ~~~

Apocalypse stared at the lifeless bodies of the other Weasleys. He snarled but sighed. He made his way outside, where he raised both of his arms and screamed, at the top of his lungs, "_Avada Patronum_!"

A large black ball of black plasma, fifteen feet in diameter, left his hands and sailed towards the skies, where it erupted. Black plasma and dark magic began to pour down and filtered the already-polluted air. And then, the sky began to fall.

Apocalypse frowned. He examined the wrecked, five-story house. "They don't deserve property." He snarled and brought up his hand. From one of his seven fingers, he let slip a few ounces of antimatter.

As soon as the antimatter left his hand, it burst with a deafening crack, causing a large-scale explosion. The positrons and electrons collided and obliterated one another. Antineutrons and neutrons found one another and had the same destructive results. Soon, the Burrow was no more. In its place was the black mark of a phoenix. The Weasley legacy would be no more. They would never be at peace, ever. They would remain cursed for eternity.

The clouds began to near the ground and the ground began to tremble.

Apocalypse sniffed and let out a crazy screech. "The apocalypse is coming, bitches! Watch me roll!" He conjured his trusty black steed and decided to ride around the Diagon Alley, screaming, "The Apocalypse is here! Nothing can save you now!"

And that is exactly what he did. The wizards obviously ignored him for the first few hours. But when wizards began to drop dead on the ground and disintegrate because they inhaled black plasma, pandemonium struck.

Within a few hours, the sky was barely seven feet off the ground. Within another ten minutes, the sky had fallen. Apocalypse smiled and conjured a bottle. His deed was complete. He activated a portkey-like device and let the dimension ripple apart into nothingness. He left it to its own fate.

With the destruction of one dimension, another identical one was born. There wasn't much of a difference in this new one. The only exception was that Ginerva Weasley no longer existed. It was an alternate reality. It was a parallel universe. It was a fresh chance for the newly unbound soul of Harry James Potter.


	2. From One Hole to Another

_Disclaimer_: See Chapter 1. Chapter 2 updated 3-24-11

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From One Hellhole to Another

Harry Potter stared at the blank wall opposite him. Tears trickled down the boy's now-rosy cheeks as he bit hard on his trembling lips. Unable to hold in the pressure, the boy let out silent sobs, careful so neither his aunt nor uncle would hear him, were they to be just outside his room.

Wait, _room? __No, no._ You're deeply mistaken if you consider his room a _proper _room. His room was a broom cupboard. No, seriously. It was a damn cupboard. That could hardly be classified as a room.

Harry had been told at an early age that naughty children like him didn't deserve a room. A room: what is a room? It represents individuality, privacy, and safety. As a child, Harry Potter was never given any such benefits. He experienced the true brutality of life. He experienced reality.

But let us not get off topic here. Where were we? Ah, yes. Harry was a _naughty_ child, a very misbehaved one indeed. He would always _listen_ to his guardians; he would always do _all_ of the house chores; and he needn't be told twice to go to school, to do his work, or even go to bed without a bedtime story. Nope, Harry was a naughty child.

Too bad Dudley wasn't a _naughty child_. Dudley was the perfect role model for all children, right? Dudley would always bully children half his weight and size around the neighborhood and school; he would always ask for two and a half servings at dinnertime, half of which would always come out of Harry's meal; and he would always squander countless pounds of money on useless toys that he would go to waste in the attic in a matter of days after purchase anyways. He was definitely _not _an ill-disciplined child; he was absolutely, without a question, and without a doubt: a good kid. Dudders was a _precious _little prince. He _never _hurt anyone intentionally, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon would claim. Dudley was always pressured into doing things against his free will, mostly due to the _ever-troublesome freak_: Harry Potter.

"Dudley," Harry growled as he punched the plaster wall. Harry sighed. He would get payback someday. Yes. Soon (very, very soon; hopefully), he would get payback. He just needed to finish making alliances with the snake gardens and honey bees . . . if that was possible. The spiders had already joined Harry's cause. They would scare Dudley away from his sanctuary under the stairs. Harry smiled grimly and shook his head. There was no point in false hope.

Harry slowly lifted himself up, careful not to wake up his neighbors: Harper, Kat, and Liew: the spiders. The little adolescent smiled at the thought of actually having friends. He never had friends, thanks to Dudley. Could he make friends someday? Was he really a freak? Nobody liked him. Nobody cared for him. And if Fate existed, fudge her. Not physically, of course, unless she was really cute or something. But if he ever got the chance, Harry would definitely make her immortal life her miserable. It would be revenge for making his life so miserable. What did he do to deserve this?

_Revenge or not to not revenge_. That was the very first life lesson that Harry taught himself. He had learned that revenge was crucial. If one didn't obtain vengeance in life, he or she would never be able to stand up for him- or her- self. Revenge was fundamental. And Harry would get it someday. He didn't know from whom he'd get it, but he promised himself that he _would_ get it from someone. Someone. Someday. Somehow.

Harry winced in pain as he moved his battered and blood-smeared arm into a more comfortable position. He turned around to face the door and reached across to turn the doorknob. The supposed 'doorknob' was literally two inches away from his so-called 'bed.' In actuality, the bed was a cot; the doorknob was a padlock manually installed into the five by two feet wooden door.

_"You should be grateful for the things we provide you with, boy. If we hadn't come along, you'd be rotting away in some bloody orphanage."_ Harry was 'ungrateful,' alright. He never properly thanked the Dursleys for their _kindheartedness_. Especially since they provided him with five-star treatment, right? Yeah _okay_ . . . keep on dreaming bitch.

Harry cautiously poked his head out into the deserted hallway. Was Uncle Vernon still awake? Or had that fat arse of a man finally decided to get some shut eye? If Uncle Vernon really _was _awake, he would probably discover Harry outside his cupboard 'afterhours' and would give him the beating of a lifetime. And Harry _really_ didn't want to deal with all of that as of the moment. He already had a broken arm to deal with. Harry gulped and stepped out into the hallway.

As soon as the boy's bare feet touched the cold wooden floor, he inhaled deeply. Silence reigned for a few seconds. The grandfather clock stationed across the hall ticked. And the clock tocked. More silence ensued. Finally, a whole minute passed without any disruption from his relatives. They were evidently asleep upstairs.

Harry sighed. It was safe to carry out his mission. His goal was to reach the destination without getting caught. It was quite simple, really, just like all his other nocturnal missions. Yet somehow, he almost always seemed to get caught.

"My name is Potter. . . Harry _James _Potter." Harry mimicked in a very James-Bond-like voice. "And I _will _succeed." And if not today, he would definitely succeed some other day.

He stealthily tiptoed down the hall and began to sidle along the wall, stopping whenever he heard something conspicuous; like the sound of a cricket from outside or the scurrying of rats from the far left closet. Upon reaching his destination, the boy let his guard down and entered his destination – a dark room. He sniffed the warm dry air around him and smiled. It was the kitchen. His stomach growled in response of catching sight of the delicious aromatic delicacies inside the kitchen.

Afraid that putting on the lights would alert his relatives, the scrawny boy tiptoed past the light switch. He made his way towards the refrigerator in complete darkness. He reached over for the handle and opened the fridge, allowing a chilly breeze to ruffle his raven-like hair. Hungrily, the boy reached for the milk carton, a cold piece of steak, a slice of cold, whole-wheat bread, and something he had been yearning for much the entire day – chocolate cake. Greedily, the boy piled large helpings of each solid food onto a plate, gulping down a glass of chilled milk along the way.

Harry knew that his aunt was a light sleeper. Therefore, he didn't dare use the microwave oven on the counter. Moreover, the boy had very bad experiences with heating things over the stove.

Harry eventually decided that it would be best to continue his only meal of the day in safe vicinity. He carefully trotted back to the cupboard with the ample plates of food in hand. Harry sat down on the hard, uncomfortable plastic bed and stared at the plates. The boy slowly helped himself to the scrumptious wonders called 'food,' taking slow bites from the meat. After finishing half of the steak, he took a bite of the chocolate cake.

That was where the problem started. This would be another self-taught life lesson to remember.

After the first bite from the cake, he had the sudden urgency to use the loo. Harry groaned as a sudden pressure formed in his stomach.

_Darn bladder_, Harry cursed. He got up from sitting position while clutching his lower abdomen. He shoved the inviting meal under his plastic cot and exited the cupboard.

The boy casually made his way up to the second story of the house and jumped the third step from the bottom landing. He carefully passed his guardians' room and rushed to the washroom. The boy sighed contently upon releasing all the built-up tension.

After thoroughly washing his hands, the child practically ran across the second-floor hallway. He scurried down the stairs as well. That was second mistake of the night. Harry accidentally stepped hard on the forbidden step.

_Creeeaaak!_ The broken stair groaned. The third step from the bottom was forbidden for a reason – it would creak very loudly whenever stepped on.

Harry silently kicked himself twenty-eight times – mentally of course – for stepping on the loud creaking stair of bullocks. He stopped in midair and perked his ears to see whether the commotion had woken up his stupid guardians (don't tell them I said that).

The little boy waited. He waited some more. He counted up to fifteen and back down to zero. Silence. Had he succeeded? Had he finally gotten away with something?

Just as Harry was about to celebrate his getaway, the master bedroom door swung open. Loud footsteps quickly approached.

"Boy! What the hell are you doing up late at night? Oh when I figure out, I'm gonna beat the living crap outta you! You hear me? Living crap! That means no food the entire next week, why you little. . . ."

Harry didn't stay to hear the rest of the threat. Putting his slim legs to good use, he sprinted towards the cupboard. The boy entered his safe haven and immediately jumped onto his cot. The boy closed his eyes shut, hoping that Uncle Vernon would believe that he had been asleep the entire time. If only it had been that easy, there would still be nice guys wandering this planet. But alas, Fate is a bitch. Not my bitch, but Harry's.

The ceiling of the cupboard, which was conveniently located directly under the staircase, groaned as his obese uncle made his way down to the first floor in hopes of catching Harry up to something. The uncle stopped directly outside the cupboard and rattled the door.

"Open the damn door boy! I know that you're awake! Tell me about all this racket that you made! Can't you keep let us sleep for once, idiot boy? OPEN IT NOW!"

Harry whimpered at the thought of getting beaten in the middle of the night. This was surely going to set a new record for the number of beatings received in a day. Possibly a new Guinness World record. But at least he was safe for now . . . right?

_Bang_! Harry groaned. _Or maybe not_. He heard the rattling of keys and shut his eyes even tighter. Why couldn't he just into a puddle of nothingness? Harry wished for a miracle. Perhaps, a magical miracle. Hmm . . . magic?

Uncle Vernon yanked open the cupboard door and grabbed Harry by the top of his hair. The man harshly threw the boy onto the hardwood floor.

Harry landed on his bottom whimpering like a broken child. New tears began to flow down his cheeks, reviving his previous feelings of despair. Harry tried not to look into his uncle's beady eyes but was forced to when his uncle grabbed another fistful of hair, willing the boy to look up.

"I want answers, boy. Now!"

"I-I-I ne-nee-needed to-to use th-the loo . . . I swear I di-didn't do anything." This brought a very cynical smirk on his uncle's face. Harry internally cried out loud.

"Lying to your uncle now, are you, you cursed bastard?" Harry instinctively backed away, knowing to choose his next words _very_ wisely.

"I don't kno-know what you're talking about, Un-uncle Vernon. I s-said I ha-had to u-use –"

"How dare you use that tone with me, boy?" The bulky, stern, and chubby man growled. Turning red and purple from anger, he pointed towards the kitchen door, making Harry Potter's fragile heart leap. "Tell me why the fridge is open with a bit of food missing, eh boy? Why don't you _entertain_ me with your little sob story?"

"I didn't mean –" Harry was cut off by a searing pain that emanated throughout his back. He staggered from the heavy blow and tried to hold onto dense air around him for support. He simply could not. One cannot just defy gravity, and believe me: I've tried.

The boy felt a bit light-headed and attempted to run. He just could not. Excruciating pain blared at him from all sides. Movement seemed impossible.

Harry's eyes wandered to the floor. He gasped – or tried to gasp – upon finding a pool of blood directly underneath his feet. His situation was hopeless. He could not run away from reality.

"Get the fuck outta my house! You're a piece of no-good-shit! You're completely useless, remember that much boy!" Then, his uncle did something even more out-of-the-ordinary. Dear Uncle Vernon picked up the boy and flung him across the room. From the second floor, Aunt Petunia rushed down the stairs to intervene. The commotion was loud enough to wake a sleeping dragon.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. _Dragons?_ Where did that thought come in from? Dragons are hypothetical magical creatures. Magical creatures don't exist, right? So dragons can't possibly exist, much less sleeping dragons. Or maybe they can . . . the world may never know!

"Vernon, what are you doing to the boy?" The tall and thin woman seemed genuinely worried for Harry. She tried to push Vernon away but met resistance.

Vernon pushed away his wife. "If you try to save you precious nephew, you'll meet the same end that he's about to meet. Stay out of this!"

Vernon opened the front door that and literally threw the small seven-year-old out of the house. Harry groaned as he landed onto the asphalt sidewalk, his pain becoming too much to deal with.

_Yay for life!_ Harry grimly mused. He began to take in slower and deeper breaths.

"Never step into this house again!" The man roared at the top of his lungs. Lights flickered on in surrounding houses as the uproar traveled around the neighborhood. A few housewives stepped out onto their porches to see what was going on, but were hushed by their husbands as they watched a very angry Vernon Dursley thrash his nephew.

"He's six . . . no seven years old, isn't he?" A few housewives whispered to their husbands.

"It doesn't matter. The boy is mentally-retarded anyways." Their husbands calmed down the women. One of them rushed off to call the ambulance and the police. But nobody could do much because everything happened all too quickly.

Vernon took out his belt and pelted Harry for no reason whatsoever. He must have been a pedophile or psychopath in disguise. "Vernon, stop!" Petunia Dursley shrieked as she tried to restrain her husband, but he just wouldn't budge. After what seemed a good thirty seconds or so, he finally spoke up.

"Try to steal food again, you little thief, and I won't be so merciful." With that, the arrogant and inhumane man grabbed his wailing wife and shut the door.

Harry looked up at the sky and smiled. He would dead real soon. Very soon, he would be with his dead parents and his wretched uncle would go to jail for the murder of an innocent little seven-year-old nephew.

T_here better be VIP room service in heaven_, Harry groaned as he closed his eyes.

Alas, his luck was really, really rotten. I pity him, you should too.

The spectators rushed up to the barely conscious boy and tried to help him in any way possible.

One of the neighbors suggested bashing the Dursleys' door open and brutally beating the living crap out of Vernon; however, his plan was cutoff when someone mentioned that the boy needed serious medical attention. A very distraught-looking Mrs. Figg began to clean up the abused child wounds.

Harry opened his eyes and fluttered his eyebrows. The moonlight right above him was intense. Where was he? Was he dead? He craned his neck a bit and caught sight of his neighbors tending to his bleeding wounds.

He scowled. What good were these neighbors anyways? Where had they been for the last six years? Why hadn't they tried to help him before? Hadn't they noticed the signs of child abuse?

Life was a box of chocolates. Harry had already put his hands inside of the box once, not knowing that all the chocolates were expired. He would _never_ do it again.

"Oh dear, are you alright?" A plump, chubby brunette put on a pitiful face and cleaned Harry's wounds with some alcohol pads.

Mrs. Figg was supposed to watch over dear Harry Potter, the savior of the Wizarding World. Her job had been quite simple. She was to keep him safe from all outside harm on strict orders of Albus Dumbledore, the leader of the Order of the Phoenix.

She had also been told to keep out of the Dursleys' way of life. She was ordered to leave the poor boy to deal with everything alone. Even after informing the old man of Harry's suspected vicious beatings and poor living conditions, she had been told to stay put. He had told her that Harry needed to "learn to endure pain." The elderly woman scoffed out loud. She finally realized how flawed Dumbledore's logic was.

Albus Dumbledore had changed . . . exactly nine years ago. He used to be such a gentleman. But one night, he had met up with that Riddle man. Ever since, Albus had been different. She shrugged and turned her attention back to the boy in critical condition.

"I never knew . . . I thought you were . . . mentally ill." Another neighbor declared her _unconditional_ love for the boy. The conversations were shortly interrupted by the sirens of an ambulance and a police car. Harry closed his bloodshot eyes as he felt himself picked up from the sidewalk and placed onto a stretcher.

He lost consciousness shortly afterwards. However, he did hear his dear uncle complaining about something . . . something about . . . a boy? Was his uncle homosexual? He had never known that.

OoOoO

"But he is just a boy!"

"My apologies Arabella . . . but . . . _Imperio_."

Harry tried to open his eyes but realized they were bandaged. He focused on the voices around him. He swore he heard the word "wizard" in the conversation between two elderly people with fairly raspy voices. He frowned at the words, "muggle" and "apparate."

_What the heck were these two babbling about?_ Too bad Harry didn't know Morse code. That's what they were talking in, right? Code language?

Unable to see his surroundings, he fell asleep again. Except this time, he had a very vivid-like dream.

OoOoO

"_Wake up, son." Harry opened one of his eyes, then the other._

What happened to the bandage that was covering them? _He tried to get up. To his surprise, he felt no pain whatsoever._

_"Glad you're finally up. Lily and I were getting sort of worried you wouldn't be able to get up. Say, by the looks of it, one day, you'll probably make all the ladies . . . ." Lily whacked her jubilant husband. "Hey, it's true," James protested but smiled._

"_Who-who are you?" Harry backed away from the man with black hair and blue eyes. The man with the broad chest seemed to be an older, more mature version of Harry Potter, with blue eyes of course. The man only chuckled merrily and hugged the little boy. After withdrawing from the boy, the anonymous man gestured him towards a woman with bright green eyes and auburn hair. _Who were these people? _"Am I-I dead?"_

"_No, sweetheart. You're very much alive," smiled the woman. "My name is Lily Potter, and this bloke over here is James."_

"_Wait . . . Potter? Are you my . . . ." _Parents? _But his parents . . . they were dead!_

"_Parents? Perhaps." James smiled, raising his eyebrows slightly. "Look, we don't have much time but we have to tell you a few things."_

_Harry hesitantly nodded, his heart beating hard against his puny chest. __But why were they wearing robes? Were they hippies?_

"_What do you know about us, Harry?" Lily grabbed the boy slightly, and hugged him. Harry snapped out of his thoughts. He embraced his mother back and didn't want to let go. But, he knew that whatever this 'connection' was; it wouldn't last for long._

"_Um . . . my uncle and aunt told me you . . . died in a car crash." James snorted angrily._

"_Did he tell you I was a drunk as well?" James asked, skeptically. Harry nodded slowly._

"_But I didn't believe him –" The boy started, but was interrupted._

"_We were murdered, Harry." Harry nearly fell backwards. _Whoa! Secret agents? _"Yeah, it wasn't an accident of any sort. The madman's name was Voldemort. He was a bad wizard, horrible and inhumane."_

_Harry gaped. There it was again; the word 'wizard.' _Were W.I.Z.A.R.D.S. some sort of secret agents? _"Um . . . dad? What's a wizard?"_

_Lily gasped. "Didn't you're aunt and uncle ever tell you about your heritage . . . anything at all?" Harry __shook his head. "Well, wizards and witches exist."_

Wait, witches? As in _magical_ witches and wizards?

Damn, that proves my whole theory back there wrong, doesn't it? So . . . dragons exist? Wow.

"_But . . . but my uncle told me there's no such thing as magic."_

_Harry had gotten beaten up when for asking Dudley for the 'magic word' – which happened to be 'please' – before passing him a can of soda at dinnertime._

"_Harry, listen to me," James turned his chin towards his face, "and forget whatever you're bloody uncle-"_

_"James! Language!" Lily chided._

_"-told you. He was just jealous of us and wanted you to forget about magic. You see, there are certain people in this world that despise magic, and most of them are muggles – that is, they aren't witches or wizards. We wizards like to keep magic a secret from them, but don't think all muggles, non-Wizards, are bad. There are rotten people in both the Muggle World and Wizarding World."_

"_So . . . are you telling me I'm a wizard?" Harry slowly concluded. "But I'm just Harry, not some wizard . . . just Harry Potter." __But magic sounds cool._

"_No son, you're Harry Potter, the savior of the Wizarding World." James smiled._

"_Wait, what?" Harry felt his head throbbing again. "I'm a savior . . . as in a famous superhero? How?"_

"_You see, Voldemort was a really evil wizard . . . and he tried to kill you too."_

"_Kill me?" Harry was starting to get annoyed at his own parents for no apparent reason. He was extremely perplexed. Telling a seven-year-old that he's a wizard isn't exactly a nice way to introduce yourself for the first time. On top of that, telling him that he was supposedly almost murdered by an evil wizard at age one doesn't exactly make him want to trust you any more than he did previously._

"_No, it's just that when he tried to kill you, you somehow survived." Lily had tears flowing down her cheeks now. "I tried to protect you but couldn't. After our deaths, we waited for you, but you didn't come back for months. We decided you must have survived somehow, and moved on."_

"_So, right now, I'm dead?" Harry asked bluntly, a deadly serious face. No matter how smart of a seven-year-old you are, this information is too much to ingest._

"_Nope. We have a special blood or familial connection that we can spark once a year and use to connect with you whenever you fall into a peaceful sleep. And it seems you haven't ever had a peaceful night until today." The images of James and Lily Potter began to flicker, causing Harry to stagger back a few feet._

_"Listen to me, son. Our best friend, Sirius Black, was falsely framed for our murders. Peter Pettigrew was our Secret Keeper and led Voldemort to our house. I just need for you to know that Sirius Black is innocent and is in Wizard Prison for a crime he didn't commit._

"_And remember this: don't let others manipulate you, ever. Especially that bloody-"_

_"James Potter! Language! He's just a little kid. Don't infest his mind with your methods of rationality."_

_"Err . . . right. So anyways . . . Albus Dumbledore! Don't trust him. It's his fault my only son suffered from physical abuse. Don't listen to any old bloke with a wispy beard unless your heart approves. Follow your heart. Shall we meet again . . . hopefully in a year . . . until next time my little hawk." With that the two silver images flickered again, disappearing completely._

"_Wait! What's a Secret Keeper? Who's Sirius Black?" But they were gone as easily as they had come._

Hawk? _Had his father called the boy his little hawk? Harry grinned and instantaneously passed out. Personally, I like phoenixes more than I like hawks. But that's just my obsession with magical creatures like sleeping dragons, which apparently exist._

OoOoO

"Is the boy doing well?" There it was again, the voice of some old bloke, probably with a wispy beard. Harry Potter tried to open his eyes and was surprised to see that his eyes were fully functional. "Ah, my boy. How are you?" So this was Albus Dumbledore?

Albus Dumbledore was a gaunt, old man with a five-feet-long, wispy beard and a fairly raspy voice. He looked to be around two hundred years old, if that was possible. Harry didn't know what to say to such an old man. Should he take his father's advice? "Um . . . are you Albus Dumbledore?" By the shocked look on the man's face, Harry confirmed his conclusion. He would _not_ trust this man anytime soon. . . .

Besides, maybe this guy was a pedophile, just like his uncle.


	3. Magical Hope

_Disclaimer: _See Chapter 1. Chapter 3 updated 3-26-11

* * *

Magical Hope

By the shocked look on the man's face, Harry confirmed his conclusion. _He would not trust this man. . . ._

"How do you know this, young Mister Potter?" The old man's voice seemed to have lost all warmth; in other words, the old man seemed pissed. And seeing an old person mad at another is quite a sight to behold.

Harry gulped. What should he do? What should he say? "Are . . . there such things as wizards, Mr. Dumbledore?" Another look of shock swept over Albus Dumbledore's already perplexed face. Harry frowned. What had he done wrong? Was the old man mad at him too? "Are you a wizard too?"

"I have no idea as to how you know this but I shall not have you knowing all this at such a young age." The man took out a wooden twig from his pocket.

Just as a side note; how often do you see people casually carrying around small tree branches in their pockets? Perhaps once a year? Maybe twice a year? _Anyways_. . . .

_What the hell? _Harry yelped as the man pointed the 'weapon' at him."Are you crazy?" Did this man go around whacking small children with his stick of doom?

However, the man did not approach Harry with the stick in hand to whack him with it. That was a relief. Instead, he gave the polished wooden stick a flick and then muttered, "_Obliviate._" With a smug smile, Dumbledore left a drooling boy to fall asleep once again. It was as if nothing out-of-ordinary had taken place at all. This was completely normal for the old man. It must have been. Just imagine how many boys this old man had already harassed in his past. My guess would be twenty-seven boys at the very least.

Harry withheld consciousness for a few seconds before falling into a very blissful sleep. The last thing that Harry remembered was the soft chirping of a beautiful melody. The only odd thing was that this so-called melody was coming from that . . . blue bird. Wait, _where did the bird come from?_ Harry could have sworn that the bird had appeared out of thin air. Was that even possible? But with magic, anything's possible, right?

What was that bird doing inside of a hospital room? Now that we're on the topic of birds, I concur that it looked more like a robin. Hold on a second – it was a blue jay! Wait, no. It couldn't have been. Oh I know . . . it must have been a legendary Pokémon!

But which one?

OoOoO

"Mr. Potter." Voices reverberated inside Harry's empty head. His mind felt blank and the memories from the previous day seemed blurred. Slowing fluttering his eyelashes, he recognized Mrs. Figg. She was trying to wake him up.

"Mr. Potter, I'm glad you're awake. I've been worried sick about your health. Are you alright?" Harry slowly nodded his head. "Do you remember anything from last night . . . anything about an old man perhaps?"

"Um . . . not really," was his only response. The boy struggled to remember something. He looked at Mrs. Figg and frowned. Why did she seem suspicious? Just then, the words 'muggle' and 'wizards' popped up inside of his head. Harry blinked frantically. There they were again – they sounded very familiar, yet so foreign.

Harry's vision blurred a bit before returning to normal. He rubbed his head and frowned. An image of an old man popped inside of his head. He sure looked a hell lot like Gandalf. Was this the old man Mrs. Figg was talking about? Why did he look like a pedophile?

"That's a relief," muttered the elderly neighbor. Why was she interested in him all of a sudden? He barely knew her. "We better get going. We don't want your aunt and uncle fretting over your well-being, now do we?"

Wait . . . his aunt and uncle? "You mean I have to go back . . . there?" Harry opened his mouth and tried to say more but couldn't.

"Yes, dear. We should really get going now. Come along." She held out her hand.

"They're not exactly the nicest of people . . . you know that, right?" Harry squeaked the last few words. What the hell was wrong with these adults? Did all adults have regular mood swings or something?

"Nonsense Harry," she gave him a falsely-reassuring smile, "surely you exaggerate. Well, come on. I'll walk you back home." The-Boy-Who-Lived stared at the crazy, old hag of a neighbor. Didn't she remember him getting whipped mercilessly by the mentally-disturbed uncle in public . . . with a belt, no less? Hadn't she apologized for being ignorant to his abuse the day he was out in the street, all battered up?

"Are you mental?" scoffed Harry. Mrs. Figg looked at him quizzically. "Do you want to know the truth? Do you want to know what goes on in that wretched house, _ma'am_?" Mrs. Figg cowered away a little from young Harry Potter. "Well, then. I get starved every day in that wretched house! I get beat up for simple accidents or for no reason at all! Do you even understand the situation? You can't send me back there!"

Harry got to his feet. A very strange phenomenon occurred just then. Small torrents of wind began to pulsate around him. I repeat: small torrents of wind began to pulsate around the boy.

Harry gaped. He looked around the room curiously. He looked up at the ceiling and saw that the ceiling was, in fact, still intact. He took a quick glance out the window. There was no storm in the horizon. Harry closed his eyes and calmed himself down. What was going on? When he opened his eyes again, the gusts of wind had died down.

"What the heck?" Harry mumbled to himself. He examined his hands. Had he summoned the wind into the room somehow?

"Now, now, Harry. Your aunt and uncle are the only family you have left."

Being a squib, she was incapable of protecting herself from even the slightest of accidental magic. The scrawny woman didn't want to anger the legendary Potter. She too hated the idea of sending the young savior back to the Dursleys, but she trusted Dumbledore completely. After all, many witches and wizards did, right? And he had informed her that Harry would be fine.

Moments later, the door banged open. It revealed a nurse with auburn hair and vivacious blue eyes. She was probably in her early-twenties. "What's going on in here? I heard some commotion . . . is everything all right?" She directed her question towards young Harry. He continued to study his hands. "Are you alright?"

"No," the little boy replied bitterly, "I need to know where I'm going after I get out of here." Hoping the nurse wouldn't force him to go back to the Dursleys, he controlled a forthcoming tantrum.

"Of course sweetheart, of course. There's an orphanage near Little Whining. We signed you into the official records as the ward of – of – of –" the fairly attractive nurse sweetly started, only to go completely haywire right afterwards. Her eyes dazed immediately.

"Ma'am?" Harry frowned. The nurse clutched her forehead. "Are you alright?"

The nurse looked up and looked at the boy. "Who are you?"

"Umm . . . I'm the boy who's supposed to be on his way to the Little Whinning orphanage?" Harry asked unsurely.

"His name is Harry Potter," Mrs. Figg added.

"Ah, yes." The nurse bobbed her head. "You are dismissed. All tests are complete. Be a good boy and listen to your aunt and uncle, won't you? If you don't have any further concerns, I shall be leaving n-now." Without waiting for a reply, she rushed out, almost tripping over something along the way.

"W-wait!" Harry screamed after the woman in a shrill voice. "What about the orphanage?"

Harry growled. He looked at Mrs. Figg with contempt. Something was definitely going on . . . and this involved that effin' Gandalf person.

"Get dressed, Mr. Potter. I'll be back in five minutes and we can leave together then." The squib left the same way the nurse had. Nobody noticed the very pissed-off Harry James Potter.

Harry clutched his oversized forehead (that's a story for another time), Harry Potter analyzed the situation the same way his uncle would whenever he would get international drill contracts.

As of the moment, Harry Potter had three options.

(Plan A) He would run away from the hospital to seek out a new life. He would have to get a very noticeable haircut; he would need to change his name to something very bizarre; and he would need to get a few piercings and tattoos to render him completely unrecognizable. And he had to somehow do all this without getting caught by the crazy stalker – Mrs. Figg – or that Gandalf person. This seemed like a very unlikely option.

(Plan B) He would return home; gather some vital things; and then _plan_ his escape when the adults least expected it. Perhaps follow Plan A.

(Plan C) He would let himself be abused for Merlin knew how long!

_Wait a second. Merlin doesn't exist, _Harry sighed._ What is wrong with me?_

Shaking his head, Harry decided upon Plan B. Another few days with the damn Dursleys wouldn't hurt, now could it?

Harry found a new set of garments set aside on a small brown table right next to the white bed. Apparently, _somebody_ had been nice enough to give him a new pair of jeans, a cozy dark-green button-down shirt that surprisingly matched his eyes, and a pair of sand-colored sandals. The Boy-Who-Had-A-Bad-Childhood quickly put on his clothes and sadly made his way towards Mrs. Figg.

Mrs. Figg held out her wrinkled hand and impersonated a happy smile. The frail woman led Harry out of the hospital. She stopped at the front desk in the entrance hall to show authorization to escort him home – whatever this illegal _authorization_ was – and led him to a cab waiting outside.

Harry grudgingly sat in the back seat of the cab. For the rest of the ride, Harry gazed out of the side window and watched the cement sidewalk with mild interest. How long would his uncle beat him up for this time? Would he actually try to kill Harry this time?

Unnoticed by the boy in the cab, a very peculiar and exotic bird settled atop the roof of the car. This colorful bird followed the boy all the way back 'home.'

OoOoO

Uncle Vicious banged on the cupboard's low-leveled door, causing Harry to stir in his sleep. His head still stung from the fresh concussion. He had chosen a very bad time to come back. It was Dudley's birthday and apparently, he had disrupted their celebration.

"Boy!" The plump man bellowed. "We're leaving in five minutes. Because Dudley insisted, you're not allowed out of the cupboard for the entire day. We'll be back from the zoo whenever! Don't you dare try any funny business in your cupboard! Dudley's birthday has to be perfect and you're not going to ruin it, understand?" His uncle stomped away. This was the cue to go back to sleep.

_Bam_! The front door slammed close. Harry groggily opened his eyes. He moaned a bit from his head injury. But it wasn't too bad. He had had worse.

Harry tried to close his eye, but couldn't. He couldn't fall asleep. Why? Why couldn't he just get some peaceful shut-eye?

Harry suddenly bolted upright. He hit his head against the low ceiling. Rubbing his cranium, the boy smiled. He didn't smile because he liked inflicting pain onto himself. No, he was happy for a completely different reason. He was definitely not suicidal.

Today was the perfect day to run away! Harry smiled widely. He rubbed his hands together and reached for a paper clip from under his cot. He straightened the dents and began to pick the doorknob lock. After hitting key mechanisms inside of the lock, Harry took another pin from under the cot and began to pry the second set of mechanisms inside the complicated lock. After a few minutes, the boy bit his lip and gave the lock a slight push. The doorknob rattled to the ground. Harry gently pushed the cupboard door open and walked out.

But something was not right. Something was wrong. Something was off about the hall. Harry frowned as he heard the chirping of a bird. A melodious chirping of a bird echoed off the walls. Harry jerked his head towards the hardwood floor.

The-Boy-Who-Lived yelped. A magnificent bird was perched on the floor at the base of the staircase, right in front of the kitchen door. The bird had hypnotizing blazing green eyes, black tail feathers, a crimson red crown, and navy blue feathers that covered the rest of its sleek body. Its eyes flashed yellow for a few seconds.

Harry frowned. The bird reminded him of a certain creature from a myth he had once read about – _a phoenix_.

But phoenixes were mythical creatures, right? What was such a creature doing inside the dull neighborhood of Little Whinning?

Harry examined the bird curiously. The bird trotted towards the boy and stopped a few inches away from his feet. Harry picked up the courage to sit down in front of the magnificent creature. The boy took in a deep breath and began to rub the bird's back. Fortunately, the bird didn't bite back.

Harry smiled and asked, "What's your name, little fella?"

The bird crooned its slender neck and stared into Harry Potter's eyes. Harry shuddered under its powerful gaze. An immediate headache crashed upon the youth, only to be followed by a long stage of dizziness. Harry groaned and clutched his head. He had been doing that a lot lately. Instantly, his head was flooded with memories.

OoOoO

**Flash!**

"_So . . . are you telling me I'm a wizard?" Harry slowly concluded. "But . . . I'm just Harry. Not some wizard . . . just Harry Potter."_

"_No son, you're Harry Potter, the savior of the Wizarding World." James smiled._

OoOoO

Harry's head throbbed in extreme pain. Words and images overflowed his brain.

The world around Harry stopped spinning. Harry blinked his eyes repeatedly. "I'm a wizard," Harry mumbled to himself. Magic was real. Harry licked his dry lips. Magic was real!

Harry looked at the phoenix – _of course!_ The phoenix was probably magical. Magic was real! Harry let out a small, hearty chuckle. He felt free.

But why had he lost all these memories in the first place? Who erased his memories? Why did that person erase his memories? Did Uncle Vernon do it?

'_It was_ _because of a certain elderly man_,' an unfamiliar feminine voice reverberated in Harry's mind.

More memories crashed down upon Harry's fragile mind; this time, about an old Gandalf-like bloke performing magic on him. Astounded, Harry checked his surroundings in search of a female. Where had that feminine voice come from? His eyes landed upon the phoenix.

"Was that you?" Harry felt a little foolish asking a bird something. But then again, this was no ordinary bird. If the myths were true, phoenixes were very loyal to their masters. The phoenix surprisingly cocked its head sideways, as if saying "No shit, Sherlock."

Confirming his prior conclusion, another voice sounded in his head. '_My name is Aurora the Majestic, Prince Potter.'_

_That's a spiffy name, _Harry thought_._

'_To answer your question, yes it was me. It was I whom helped retrieve your lost memories.'_

_Well, thanks, _Harry communicated to her inside of his mind.

'_Right now, you need to escape. I have come to help. I suggest that we follow Plan B.'_

Harry gasped. She knew about Plan B? _Can you read my mind?_

'_Yes, Prince Potter. However, I will never do anything to harm you.'_

Harry nodded slowly. He felt silly communicating to Aurora through his mind. Would she understand him if he spoke out loud? Harry bit his lip. "Can you understand me if I speak like this?"

The phoenix rolled its green eyes, if that was possible for a bird, and shook her head. _'Yes, I can understand you. Phoenixes are not dull. We are intelligent and diligent creatures.'_

Harry blushed and nodded. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to insult you, Aurora."

'_It's quite alright, Harry,' _Aurora responded.

"Why are you here? Why did you come for me specifically?" Harry asked.

'_You must leave today,' _Aurora trotted forwards and sat down on Harry's lap. She looked up at Harry and added, '_If you don't escape, something bad will happen tonight. You must leave this neighborhood right now.'_

Harry frowned. "What's going to happen?"

'_Please just listen to me. Trust me, Harry. I promise to always be there for you.'_

Harry gaped and smiled. "R-really? You'll . . . be my friend? You'll . . . care for me?"

'_Always, Harry,'_ Aurora responded without hesitation.

"Thank you," Harry choked out. He didn't know why, but he trusted her already. His gut told him to trust her. It was time that Harry listened to his instinct.

'_I suggest that you take food, clothes, and lots of money along with you, in case you need it. And perhaps, you can _borrow _your cousin's handheld games for mere entertainment. Then, simply put everything into a bag and hold onto my tail feathers. I'll get us somewhere far from here. Far away and definitely safe_._'_

Harry made a quick decision. He decided, right there, that he would always trust Aurora. It was time that he took some chances in life.

"Okay,"Harry nodded. "Should I do this right now?"

Aurora let out an angry purr. Did you know that angry birds purr? I definitely didn't.

"Okay, okay. I'm going," Harry grinned and held up his hands in surrender. Aurora leapt from his lap and flew onto the staircase railing. Harry thundered up to the second floor and began to scour the master bedroom.

This day was going to awesome. And it wouldn't hurt to leave a few nasty surprises for the Dursleys. . . .

OoOoO

"Okay, I'm ready," Harry jumped up and down in place. He felt extremely hyperactive.

Not only had he 'borrowed' a thousand pounds, but he had also taken two of Dudley's birthday presents. Harry clutched the large shopping bag tightly in his left hand. Aurora gracefully flew up and perched onto Harry's right shoulder. Her long, black tail feathers tickled against Harry's neck.

'_Whenever you're ready Harry_.' The young boy took a deep breath and clutched the tail feathers tightly.

A strange feeling overcame the young wizard. His navel jerked inwards and everything around him blurred out into nothingness, causing him to shut his eyes tightly. After a few moments, the desire to vomit vanished. He opened his eyes.

Harry landed onto his feet. He looked around for Aurora and found her still perched on his shoulder. Harry quietly observed his surroundings: he was in some sort of dark alley, right next to a pair of huge dumpsters. Harry wrinkled his nose.

"Phew," Harry looked around. His wafted away the dirty stench. "Why are we here phoenix girl? It smells really bad here."

'_Harry,' _Aurora whispered inside of his head. _'Turn around.'_

Harry frowned and turned around. He met face-to-face with a moldy brick wall. It was dead end. Why was he here?

"What am I supposed to be looking at?" Harry asked out aloud.

He turned back around to exit the alley. After taking two steps, he bumped into a black dog. Harry looked down at the animal and wondered what it was doing in the alley.

But it was no ordinary dog. Nor sirree. It was carrying grocery bags in his teeth. Isn't Harry Potter's life just fascinating?

Harry staggered back. The shaggy dog looked up at the boy and barked. Harry examined the animal. Was this dog magical too? He felt _familiar._

Harry net down to pet the dog. "What are you doing here?" He searched the dog for a nametag but couldn't find one. "Are you lost?"

The dog looked into Harry's green eyes and opened its jaw to bark. The grocery bags in its mouth fell to the ground. A few carrots rolled out of the bag.

Harry petted the dog's dark fur. "Don't worry, I won't hurt you."

The dog backed away from the boy's grasp and stretched its paws. Then, it effectively _transformed_ into a tired-looking man with shaggy black hair and black eyes.

"Merlin!" Harry jumped backwards, only to bump into the dead end. "Who are you?"

The man looked at Harry with pleading eyes. "Harry? Is . . . that you?"

Harry began to panic. Why did everyone know his name? Stupid stalkers!

"Harry?" The man looked at the terrified boy with a pleading look. "My name is . . . Sirius."

Sirius? Why did that name sound so familiar? Harry glanced at Aurora for help. The phoenix looked into his eyes and washed Harry's fragile mind with another memory.

OoOoO

**Flash!**

"_Listen to me, son. Our best friend, Sirius Black, was falsely framed for our murders. Peter Pettigrew was our Secret Keeper and led Voldemort to our house. I just need for you to know that Sirius Black is innocent and is in Wizard Prison for a crime he didn't commit._

OoOoO

Harry looked back at the man in front of him. This man was one of his parents' best friend. He must have been special to them. "You're name is . . . Sirius Black?"

Sirius looked shocked. "How do you . . . please, you have to trust me. I'm your godfather and I never hurt your pare–"

"You're my godfather?" Harry asked in disbelief. He actually had godparents? Harry felt his heart clench. "Why didn't you ever visit me?"

Sirius fumbled with his fingers. After years of searching, he had finally located his godson. And now, he didn't know how to get Harry to trust him. "I couldn't. I'm technically still a criminal on the loose."

Harry's eyes widened. "You're a criminal?" His godfather was a bad guy?

Sirius shook his head furiously. "No, no! I got blamed for something that I never did! Please, you have to believe me Harry! I would never hurt a soul unless I had to protect someone I loved deeply."

Harry sighed. He could relate with Sirius. Dudley always blamed him for fights in school. And Harry would always get in trouble. "Okay."

There was an awkward silence between the two wizards. Sirius squinted his eyes and brought up his hand to brush aside Harry's head. "Did you get hurt, Harry?"

Harry flushed. "It's nothing, really. I'm okay."

Sirius gasped and frowned. "You are not okay, pup. You've got a huge bruise the size of Quidditch pitch across your forehead." He brushed his hands across. "Who did this to you?"

"Nobody," Harry meekly said.

"Nobody?" Sirius huffed. "Pup, don't try to hide it. Tell me."

Harry gulped. "It was my aunt and uncle."

"Your aunt and uncle?" Sirius asked. "James' family is practically extinct. Unless. . . ." Sirius gasped. "They're from your mother's side?"

Harry nodded. "Yes."

"Those Muggles hurt you?" Sirius bellowed, startling Harry. He growled, "I'll kill 'em!"

Harry flinched a bit and cowered away from Sirius. Upon seeing the terrified look on Harry's face, the man softened up. He would deal with the Muggles later. "Why don't you come inside, Harry? I'll patch you up. I'm no medi-wizard but it's better than having that huge lump on your forehead."

Harry nodded slowly in response. He had a home! He had a godfather to confide in. And in just one day, he had found two magical guardians – Sirius and Aurora. Life was certainly looking up for the boy. "Where is your house?"

Sirius gestured toward the solid wall next to the dumpsters. "Right here, little one."

Harry looked at the dumpsters. "You live in the dumps?"

Sirius chuckled. "Don't worry. Read this first."

Sirius handed Harry a parchment of paper with a peculiar address on it. Harry read the paper once and looked up at Sirius. "Now what?"

"Now what?" Sirius grinned. "Well, now you simply walk through the wall! What else did you expect?"

OoOoO

And so, a whole new life began for the once-brutally-abused boy-wonder. Everything went as planned for the next five years or so. No longer was he the malnourished reserved young boy that he once had been. No. Harry Potter changed. He underwent a metamorphosis. It was a rather complicated, but successful change.

Harry Potter learned all that was needed about the Wizarding World. He discovered his familial past; he studied about his ancestors and vowed to make them all proud. Harry set out to succeed in life. He would stomp over everything that Fate threw at him this time. He wouldn't lose this time around. Never again would he be the victim. Never again would he be the prey. He would always be the predator. The good kind of predator, of course.

Sirius nourished him back into good mental and physical health. Sirius taught Harry how to endure his emotional bruises. He taught Harry how to cry. And Harry would often cry. He would sometimes cry out of grief and sometimes out of joy. Harry never completely healed emotionally but learned to cover his internal bruises pretty well.

Sirius helped Harry learn stuff well above his level. Since he didn't have a wand yet, Harry simply mastered the theory for a handful of hexes, spells, and charms. Sirius even passed off a handful life lessons, skills, talents. He taught Harry how to play the guitar; he taught Harry about the importance of exercise; he taught Harry proper Wizarding etiquettes, were they to be necessary anytime in his life.

But there was one thing that Sirius did that Harry was very grateful for – he gave Harry childhood. Even if this childhood was very limited, it was worth it.

_"I'm better than you Siri."_ Harry would often tease his godfather.

_"No you're not pup!" _His godfather would remark back.

_"Am too."_

_"Are Not."_

_"Am too." _

_"Ugh, kids. . . ."_

And so, the average parent-child argument would break out. And Harry would always win.

At a young age, Harry took a strong interest in Runes. Runes were his absolute favorite. Runes only required a nifty quill for carvings. Harry spent most of his time – thirteen hours a day, for the few years he was with Sirius – playing around with shapes and constructing and drawing runes.

By age ten, he could draw a perfect circle with just his hand and the drawing quill! Sometimes, Sirius wondered whether Harry could draw a better circle than the protractor itself.

By age twelve, Harry Potter had mastered basic Runecraft. He even surpassed Sirius's knowledge on Runes, and that said something. By then, Sirius had concluded that Harry was a natural RuneCrafter.

Hell, he could draw a perfect ambient circle, engrave it with three Per Ankhs exactly thirty degrees apart, and activate the runework in less than fifteen seconds! That was considered fourth-year runework!

There was this one time when he challenged Sirius to a duel and won in just a mere 30-seconds without a wand. He set up a Nu Rune – which effectively disarmed any person who crossed it – on the dueling platform and caught Sirius off guard. Harry definitely had a select number of bragging rights.

But Harry was a bit peculiar. _He loved storms_. Whenever it would rain, he would always ask to go outside to play in the rain. And he would always go alone. Once, Sirius swore that he saw Harry holding a ball of lightning in his hand.

_"Hey Siri! Take a hold of this!" Harry exclaimed, holding up a ball of pure light. "I love magic!"_

_"H-Harry?" Sirius furrowed his eyebrows. He stepped into the pouring rain. His godson was soaked in rainwater. He was holding something magical. Something really bright, much like a star. "What is that, pup? That might be dangerous."_

_"Don't worry Siri." Harry chuckled heartily. "It's just lightning. Come here, I'll show you." Sirius's eyes opened wide and he quickly rushed over to his godson. _Lightning?_ Just as Sirius reached out to grab the bolt of lightning, the celestial substance shimmered away into a puff of light. "Aw, shucks! You ruin everything, dad! You're no fun." Harry pouted._

"_Lightning," Sirius mumbled to himself. He stood there in shock._

_"Say, what's for dinner, Siri?" Harry asked. He casually blew away the golden mist from his palm. Sirius gaped at the weird phenomenon. "And Paddy?" Sirius looked up at Harry with a pensive expression on his face. "Race ya!" Harry grinned and rushed into the Black Manor. The boy wonder sprinted towards the bathroom to bathe, leaving a confused Padfoot in the stormy weather outside._

Sirius had assumed that he was hallucinating that time, but this happened often.

Harry would always grasp the substance with ease, which he claimed to be lightning. But it would always shimmer away whenever Sirius tried to get a hold of it.

Was this phenomenon even possible? Was this even magic?

After several occurrences and failed attempts, Sirius concluded that Harry was _special_. After all, he deflected the Killing Curse at age one. He was different and powerful. Sirius treated Harry like a normal wizard, throwing extravagant birthdays, Christmases, and other holidays to make up for the lost happiness during Harry's time with the Dursleys.

Everything was perfect – that is until the young wizard found out that he had a 'Saving People' thing. After all, perfection is never attainable. And if it is ever achieved, it is deemed to disappear before one can fully take advantage of it or even appreciate it.


	4. A Saving People Thing

_Disclaimer__: _See Chapter 1. Chapter 4 updated 3-26-11

* * *

A Saving-People Thing

Harry Potter awoke, sweating as usual. _Another nightmare_.

The young wizard grimly sighed. Almost every other night, he would dream about his mother being struck down by a certain snake-like Dark Lord. He dreaded these nightmares and had tirelessly tried to get rid them, but to no avail.

Rubbing his eyes, the boy got out of his over-sized comfortable bed. He sighed and grimly smiled. It was his birthday. And he was looking forward to receiving loads of presents.

Harry rushed to the bathroom on _his_ floor of the Black Mansion. Ever since the boy had moved in to live with his godfather, his life had gone from living in poverty to living in luxury. Harry blissfully smiled as he let the hot water run against his bare back. He was definitely a spoiled wizard.

After a quick shower, the birthday boy dressed up in his favorite matching green and black Muggle clothing. Harry walked down two flights of stairs. He found Sirius reading the _Daily__Prophet_ while eating a well-sized breakfast, courtesy of good old Kreacher. Before sitting down on the kitchen table, Harry rushed over to give his godfather the daily morning hug, startling the elder wizard a bit.

"Hey Sirius! Did I ever tell you that you're the best godfather anyone could have?" Harry grinned, taking a slice of bread in the process.

"Nice try kiddo flitto, but you can't win me over." Sirius shook his head and took a sip from his cup of tea. "You know the routine – we have a small party in the evening, eat cake like Hippogriffs, and open presents at around eight o'clock in the evening. Never the morning. What makes you think that this year would have been any different?"

"Ah come on, Paddy." Harry pouted. "Please?"

"Nu-uh. Besides, this year, you get your very own wand."

"Really?" Harry exclaimed. "That's awesome!"

Sirius wagged his forefinger. "But, you have to behave. Do you really want your presents now? It might take . . . a few hours to open them, especially with the things I got you." Sirius beamed at Harry's shocked expression. "Well, get a move on pup. You might even meet some cute girl along the way!" Harry smacked Sirius's shoulder lightly, scowling a bit. Sirius to burst out laughing.

Harry had changed these past few years. He was no longer shy or reserved. He was open, loyal, and chivalrous. His godfather would always tease him, saying that he was a Gryffindor at heart. Harry would always snarl and banter in reply. But he still had problems with girls.

"Ugh! I don't like girls . . . I mean they don't understand anything we blokes do!" Harry tried to cover up the blush creeping up his cheeks, but failed miserably. "I mean . . . yeah."

"Riiiight," Sirius gave Harry an amused look, "just like that nurse you told me about. You definitely hated her, right? What was the cute brunette's name again, huh Harry? You said her eyes were _alluring_, didn't you?" Sirius smiled. Poor Harry buried his flushed face.

"Girls are dirty-minded!" Harry countered back. "I don't like them at all!"

Sirius chuckled. "Yeah . . . definitely. And what are you, St. Harry?"

Harry pouted. "I'm the Town Boy. Everyone in the neighborhood calls me that. I help ladies with groceries and help old women cross the street!"

Sirius began to laugh hysterically. "So, you're into elder woman, Harrikins? The nurse. Now the old women across the street?"

Harry let out a shrill scream and tackled Sirius on the chair. "I didn't mean it like that! Take that back, you mangy foot of a pad!"

OoOoO

After finishing breakfast, the duo dressed in traveling cloaks since Muggle clothing would draw attention in the Wizarding World. The last thing they needed was attention: Sirius Black was still a notorious mass murderer on the loose while Harry Potter was supposedly the Boy-Who-Lived on the run.

"Okay, now being completely serious –"

"You're always Sirius. But right now, you're –"

"I mean it Harry."

Harry sighed. "Okay, Siri."

"I'm going to cast a glamour charm on the both of us. If an ordinary person looks at us, I will look like a haggard old man with a red beard and you will look exactly the same, except with long blonde hair." Sirius also took out two emeralds.

"What are those?" Harry took one of the emeralds.

"These are portkeys. If there's any trouble, any at _all_, I want you to say your full name and 'Black Manor.' It'll transport you here directly. On last resort, call your spiffy little phoenix. But don't call her unless you really have to. Her appearance will definitely make the _Daily Prophet_. Any questions?"

The head of the Black family checked to make sure the manor would be completely safe while they made the trip to Diagon Alley. He examined the Muggle locking mechanisms and nodded to himself.

"Um, yeah. You said ordinary wizards wouldn't be able to see through our glamour . . . which people would be able to see right through them?"

Putting on a pensive look, Sirius scratched his long greasy hair. "Well, there's Dumbledork and Mad-Eye Moody, who by the way is an auror. Both can see through glamour charms, invisibility cloaks, and etcetera. But I doubt they'll be there. So relax and be on the look-out for charming girls."

Sirius cautiously backed away from Harry and smirked.

"You're so immature, Pads." Harry huffed.

"Let's go pup. I'll side-apparate you there: it's safer than the Floo. Ready?" Harry nodded, grasping his godfather's protective arm tightly. "1 . . . 2 . . . 3!" And with a loud _crack_, the duo disappeared.

Harry gasped for air and fell to the hard cement sidewalk. He really hated Side-Apparation. Dusting his cloak off, Harry scowled at his surroundings. Sirius put his right forefinger to his pursed lips and led the out-of-breath boy out of the dark alley.

"Just follow close behind, don't speak to anyone and don't answer back. You get the idea, right?" Harry merely nodded. He was eager to encounter wizards and possibly make friends despite his godfather's advice. The two walked into a pub called the 'Leaky Cauldron' and walked to a brick wall located towards the back.

The boy watched curiously as his godfather rapped his wand against the bricks, revealing an entrance to a magical mall.

Harry gasped. He had never been to Diagon Alley before. He had only seen pictures of Sirius's many failed dates with witches at the ice-cream shop in Diagon Alley. But this was the real deal.

Awe-stricken, Harry followed Sirius through the crowded street. He watched as witches and wizards escorted children from one shop to another. The shops varied from pet shops to prank shops to bookstores. Sirius saw Harry's excitement and quietly led him to 'Ollivander's Wandshop.'

"Hey pup, I think that young lady way over there," Sirius pointed to a girl with long dirty blonde hair, rosy cheeks, and sparkling blue eyes, "was checking you out." Harry scowled and entered the wand shop, trying to disregard Sirius's previous comment.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a redhead boy gawking at him as well. Harry groaned. He didn't go that way. He quickly turned his attention to an old man at the counter, whom he assumed to be Mr. Ollivander. The door behind him chimed and closed shut.

"Hello sir. How may I be of your assistance today?" Mr. Ollivander studied Sirius. Under the glamour, Sirius appeared to be a frail old man. "Does your son require a wand? Or is he your grandson?"

"Actually," Sirius said in his normal voice, "we are under glamour and this here is Harry Potter."

Mr. Ollivander let out a slight chuckle. He seemed delighted to hear that the Boy-Who-Lived would be his customer. "Oh, what an honor, Mr. Potter! Who would have ever guessed that you would return?"

Sirius waved his wand over Harry and undid the glamour charm. "He needs a wand and a wand holster. And please, do hurry. Is it possible to lock the shop while we're here? I don't want to draw too much attention to ourselves."

"Of course," Mr. Ollivander waved his wand in the direction of the door. It firmly locked into the place. "Please follow me to the room in the back."

Mr. Ollivander led Harry and Sirius to the back room. This room was very narrow and crowded. It harbored tens of shelves, each off which harbored hundreds of wands.

"Wow," Harry gaped. He had never seen much of the magical world outside of the Black Manor.

"Now, I'm going to need to make certain measurements to figure out which wand might work for you." The wandmaker took out a weird shiny measuring tape-like device and started taking down all sorts of weird measurements. He noted the boy's arm lengths, the boy's precise finger size for the right hand, as well as some weird angle measurements. He frowned and looked up at Harry. "Which is your dominant hand?"

"I can use both hands. But I usually use my right hand."

The man nodded and went to the many shelves. After a while, the old man handed Harry a slender brown Mahogany driftwood wand, "Try this." Harry gave the wand a wave. Instantly, he knew that this wasn't the right wand. The air around him crackled with too much energy and the wand gave off an eerie yellow glow.

Mr. Ollivander shook his head. "No, no. That won't do." He frowned and handed him another wand. But that one wasn't a perfect match either. "You're a difficult one, aren't you?"

Sirius grinned, "Very difficult."

After trying about twenty-eight different wands, the old wandmaker finally pulled out a long and slender dark green wand.

"Hmm . . . this is an odd combination that can hone much power. Try this." The wandcrafter handed over the thirteen-inch-long wand to Harry. And then, as if expecting a large explosion of some sort, he quickly cowered away and ducked behind his desk. To everyone's delight, the dark green wand simply glowed white for a few seconds before retaining its original dark emerald color.

"Oho. This is quite a match, I should say."

"What's it made of?" Harry asked curiously.

"This is a unique combination of two phoenix feathers, three and a half milliliters of basilisk venom, and seven rare shards of conglomerate emeralds. Although it isn't a perfect one, it will do fine for you."

"What do you mean it isn't the perfect one?" Sirius asked. "Will it work for him?"

"It will work wonderfully for him. However, this will only be able to channel ninety-five percent of your full raw magic. Alas, I cannot do any better, so please forgive me."

Mr. Ollivander looked a bit away in shame. It had been years since the Ollivander family had failed in finding the perfect match for the customer. Albus Dumbledore was one of these rare wizards.

"That's quite alright." Sirius fished out thirty-three galleons and handed them over to the elderly Ollivander patriarch. "I was going to buy the little dud a spare wand anyways. Perhaps, a custom wand will be the 'perfect match' for our little hero here."

Harry scowled slightly. Little_hero?_ He was not a hero. He was a normal kid, just like all the other little wizards and witches his age. Not a hero. Definitely not.

Mr. Ollivander nodded and took out a fancy holster from under the counter. "To make up for the inconvenience, I would like to offer this custom-made holster made of pure silk and Basilisk scales at half price." Harry gaped and readily took up the offer, grinning at the slightly jealous Sirius.

"Well," Sirius whistled at the purity of the holster. "The deal's done."

"Thank you Mr. Ollivander. I hope I wasn't too much trouble," Harry smiled up at the man. He looked around the disarrayed room. It was now scattered with wands at random. "I'm truly sorry about the mess."

Mr. Ollivander chuckled and shook Sirius's hand. "Not at all. I value every one of my customers."

OoOoO

The godfather cast a glamour charm on Harry again before exiting the wandshop. He began to bicker away about how much of a pain in the arse little Harry Potter was. Harry tried to hold in his laughter as Sirius droned on about how The-Boy-Who-Lived needed special treatment, special wands, special holsters, special friends . . . definitely special girlfriends.

"Sirius!" whined Harry, causing his guardian to snort. "How many times do I have to tell you this? I don't fancy girls."

"So where to next pupsicle?"

"Um . . . how about –"

"I heard that ice cream parlor way over there," he pointed to a shop towards the end of the street, near Gringott's, "specializes in the Harry-Potter flavor." Harry smacked Sirius's arm hard, trying to get him to shut up.

"I hate you, Padfoot." Harry Potter's emerald green eyes searched the magical mall for something of interest. There were so many things to see. Yet, they had such little time.

In the distance, there was a pet shop. He didn't need to go there. He already had a familiar. A little farther to the left, there was a pawnshop. Harry wrinkled his nose. Definitely not! His gaze wandered a bit more before settling onto the sign of a Quidditch shop.

"Padfoot!" Harry nearly screamed into his godfather's ear. "Quidditch!"

Sirius chuckled. "Get a hold of yourself. Where are you going to play Quidditch even if I do get you a broom?" Sirius asked. Harry stared back with puppy-like eyes.

"Please? I promise I won't break it! Please! I know you don't have a broom either so you can borrow mine whenever you want. Okay, you don't have to give me allowance for a whole three months? Oh come on _dad_, please? Okay, what if. . . ."

Sirius eyed Harry suspiciously as the witty boy tried to convince him. He didn't want to really waste money on something that would eventually go to waste anyways. Harry didn't even have much of an interest in Quidditch. Harry probably just wanted to fly on a broom once, just to get a feel for flying.

But then again, a godfather just can't refuse his godson something, especially when the godson calls the guardian 'dad.' Besides, the Blacks were one of the richest families in England. If Sirius was going to ever put the money to use, he would use the Black fortune to spoil his godson. Harry deserved that much.

"What if I buy the groceries for the next two months? Wait, what if I help you get a girlfriend so I can have a godmother along with a godfather, eh Padfoot?" Sirius chuckled at Hurry's stubbornness, much like his biological father.

"Oh alright," Sirius sighed.

"Bloody yes!"

"But there's one condition." Harry crossed his hands in feigned obedience. "Don't ask for another one until your sixteenth birthday, okay?"

Harry sincerely nodded and started tugging Sirius, by the arm, towards the Quidditch shop.

"So . . . what kind of godmother did you have in mind little hero?" Harry promptly rolled his eyes, mumbled something unintelligent, and continued his way to the crowded Quidditch shop.

"Hey," Sirius chuckled. "I thought we had a deal."

Harry stopped right outside the display window. He smudged the glass display window with his firm petite fingers in the process.

"So which broom should I get? The Nimbus 2001 looks spiffy and cool, and green is definitely my color. Wait a second . . . oh bloody Merlin! I can get mine custom-made Padfoot!"

Sirius groaned. Why did the kid always go for the expensive stuff? He probably inherited that trait from his mother.

The godfather was about to respond when shrill screams filled the once-serene atmosphere of Diagon Alley. Harry and Sirius both abruptly turned around and saw a scene of pure pandemonium.

Five girls were being held hostage by at least eighteen men in black cloaks and white masks at wand-point. They all had the insignia of a white snake printed on the front of their black cloaks.

Harry frowned. They seemed familiar. The girls. The guys in black cloaks. He recognized them from somewhere.

Harry closed his eyes as his forehead throbbed with pain and anger.

Flashbacks of him saving people infiltrated his blank mind. Multiple images of a bloodied Harry Potter saving a redhead from a basilisk washed the front of Harry's mind. Harry looked at the girls in front of him and recognized a redhead. But she wasn't the same redhead.

An image of a much older Harry Potter saving a French teen from drowning in a lake full of mermaids impacted the side of Harry's mind. Harry didn't recognize any of the girls in front of him as the same one.

An image of an adult Harry Potter saving a bushy-haired girl – whom he deeply despised, for some odd reason – from Snake Man rushed at the back of Harry's mind. Harry instantly recognized the brunette from the line of hostages.

At the sight of the brunette, Harry felt a monster inside of him reawaken. The monster wanted revenge. Harry shivered as euphoria sweep across his body.

He looked down at the holster strapped to his waist and quickly snatched the dark-green rod of power with his right hand. It was time to _test it._


	5. Destiny of a Dragon

_Disclaimer_: See Chapter 1. Chapter 5 updated 3-26-11

* * *

Destiny of a Dragon

The shrill screams filled the alley. A number of people ducked into stores, each attempting to run away from the scene of terror. This of course left a clear path between Harry and the terrorists. How convenient?

Harry watched the people around him. He focused on the adult witches and wizards. He frowned. Why weren't they trying to help the hostages? He growled a bit. The adults were all cowards!

One of the bystanders yelled, "Run for your lives! It's the Black Wizards!"

_You bloody cowards, _Harry shook his head. He looked at the people dressed in fancy black cloaks. Who were they?

After the Boy-Who-Lived had defeated Voldemort, most of the Death Eaters had been captured by Aurors and Hit-Wizards and sent away to Azkaban. Only a handful of the elite Death Eaters had survived.

For the next twelve years, these thirty or so elites became known as the Death Wizards or Black Wizards for slang. They would attack the Wizarding World at random and wreak havoc. They were always prepared for their attacks; they would plan for months in advance for each one.

Over the years, Dumbledore and several skilled aurors tried to remove this threat; they had only been able to capture ten of these thirty Death Wizards. Currently, there were twenty, extremely-skilled dark wizards on the loose.

One of the men in black held his wand to his throat, "Silence or we'll kill the fucking girls!"

The spectators immediately quieted down. Another man in black stepped forwards and addressed the public. "Okay, now that we have your undivided attention; if you are a parent to any of these five lovely ladies, _please_ step up so we can negotiate a ransom with you."

Immediately, nine adults rushed up from the crowd and attempted to touch their children, only to cower back as the men pointed their wands at each of the girls' throat.

"Let go of my daughter you filthy bastard," cried one of the parents.

"Now, now," the leader of the group cocked his head, "you aren't exactly in the position to do much. So. . . ." He drawled and took off his mask, revealing the face of an aristocratic blonde. Immediately, many of the parents screamed and cowered back. The adults inside the stores pitied the parents.

Lucius Malfoy smirked at the terror-stricken parents. At his prime, Lucius Malfoy was a force to be reckoned with. He still was. "Each of you will be given one of two choices. You can either abandon your child or pay five hundred thousand galleons for your child's safe return. It's your choice really." He drawled with a chuckle.

The parents, along with the crowd, all gaped at the now chuckling men in black. One of the Black Wizards began to guffaw. Lucius sneered in his direction, effectively shutting him up.

"Please, take whatever you need but my daughter . . . five hundred thousand is asking too much from me. Please . . . have mercy!" One of the mothers got to her knees and began to plead, tears falling down the matriarch's now red face. "She's the only one I have left!"

"Who do I look like to you?" Lucius began to chuckle at the woman's expense. "How . . . pathetic." The woman fell to her knees and began to sob uncontrollably.

Nobody said anything. Minutes passed and nobody took initiative.

"Nobody is willing to pay up?" Lucius looked around. "Oh well," he pointed his wand at one of the girls and muttered, "_Crucio_." The red spell hit one of the girls. The girl in question cried out loud, fell to her knees, and began moaning from agony and despair. Lucius quickly removed the curse, chuckling at the hysterical parents. "The faster you pay, the less your lovely daughters have to suffer."

The crowd made no attempt to help the suffering families. If they tried to interfere, the wizards could easily kill the girls. And they cared about their own families as well, thank you very much. Well, all except for the one and only Harry Potter.

Harry's head began to throb. He started getting dizzy. Why did he have the sudden urge to throw up? A thick substance began to crawl up Harry's esophagus. He began to sway from side to side. Dizziness collided with Harry's senses.

An unknown internal force began to grow stronger at exponential rates. Harry had the sudden impulse to kill someone, the leader of the Black Wizards in particular. He tried to suppress it, whatever the desire was, but couldn't. It was too strong. He wanted to embrace this instinctual force, but should he?

What was this unknown force? Harry began to pant and blinked his eyes very hard. His eyes began to blur. His nose began to elongate. His ears shrunk a bit, turning a bit scaly.

Harry clutched his stomach with both hands and closed his eyes, gulping as he began to breathe heavily. He tried to calm down . . . do anything! But it was too late. The pain slowly made its way from his stomach, up into his lungs, and finally spread out with a silent _bang_. His skin began to throb with intense heat. His legs began to violently shake. What was this unknown force?

It was the dragon within, the dragon within.

Harry silently growled. He let out an inhumane scream. His voice echoed throughout the fairly quiet alley. Everyone turned around to see who had made such a guttural noise.

"Hello, Lucius," the boy growled. All eyes turned towards the young boy. Under the glamour charm, he appeared to have pale blonde hair and vivacious, almost surreal, green eyes. There was something very unusual about his eyes, though. The insides of the irises were a golden red.

Silence roamed for the next few seconds as Lord Time and Lady Serenity had an abstract reunion.

"Well, well. And who might you be?" The leader of the terrorists slowly made his way towards the young boy. Lucius frowned at the boy's surreal green eyes. The eyes radiated power. The eyes flashed yellow for a second, startling the spectators.

"Who is he?" Somebody in the crowd murmured to his friend.

"He's crazy," a man whispered to his wife.

The parents looked at the boy with a pleading look on each of their faces. Sirius Black studied the boy's face, wondering whether this was the same Harry Potter.

"Foolish boy," Lucius Malfoy finally sneered, breaking the silence. He pointed it at Harry and smirked, "Never mess with us." Everyone in the alley held their breath, waiting for either of the two to take action.

Sirius snapped out of his daze and sprung into action. He rushed in between Harry and Lucius and produced his own in a defensive position. Lucius frowned and studied Sirius with curiosity.

"Harry, portkey the hell out of here," Sirius whispered, keeping his wand pointed at Lucius.

Harry Potter shook his head. "No, Sirius. I'm not leaving them." He slightly shoved Sirius aside, clearly determined to save five innocent girls. And he had the sudden impulse to kill Lucius.

"Harry, these men will freaking kill you, this isn't a joke! Please get out of here!" Sirius pleaded quietly. "You have no idea what they are capable of! Aurors will handle this, please!" Sirius cried out loud, forgetting that everyone else was still listening.

Lucius let out a hearty laugh upon hearing the last part of their hushed conversation. _Aurors?_ The Death Wizards would be long gone by then.

"Sirius, I'm not leaving them. I'm going to save them." Harry whispered back harshly.

Sirius sighed and looked around the alley. "I'll take care of this, Harry. Just get out of here."

"I'm not leaving you to fend them off on your own, dad." Harry pointed his green wand towards another Black Wizard. "We'll rescue them together."

Sirius gulped. "Alright, I hope that you know what the hell you're doing."

Harry nodded. He did have a plan. "Siri," he whispered from the side of his mouth, "can you summon all of the girls? Using that summoning charm you taught me? I'll distract them. You just summon the girls."

Sirius gaped. "No, how about I distract him and –"

"No dad," Harry whispered back fervidly, "I can't summon the girls. I don't know how to."

Sirius bit his lip. He sighed and nodded. "I love you Harry. No matter what happens."

Harry smiled. "I love you too, dad." He took a gulp and added, "Summon them at my signal." Sirius grudgingly nodded.

"Are you done with your fucking small talk?" Lucius drawled on. "Are you ready to die?"

Harry stepped forwards and grinned manically. "Hello Lucius." Without breaking eye contact, Harry slowly dropped to his knees. He put his hands under his shins and began to scratch at the cobblestone street. In just seconds, he was able to ingeniously carve a shielding rune. It would shield him from up to thirty simultaneous curses. It was a custom-made rune. One of the many custom-made runes that Harry had made, with the help of his godfather of course.

"Get up boy," Lucius bellowed, "where I can see your hands."

Harry slowly got up, making sure to step on the carved rune so the others wouldn't be able to see it. He put his hands into the air and let his green wand clatter to the ground. Feeling a bit bold, Harry said, "Get at me, bitch."

"Don't you dare, boy!" Lucius growled. Everyone's attention averted towards Harry. The Black Wizards in charge of the five hostages temporarily forgot about the girls and turned towards Harry.

Harry took his opportunity immediately. "NOW!"

Immediately, all twenty Death Wizards shot multicolored spells in Harry's direction, thinking that he was about to attack their leader. Harry remained standing, but took two steps backwards. The spells sailed towards Harry, but dissipated just two feet away from him. The rune on the cobblestone glowed white before dissolving into the road.

Unnoticed by the Death Wizards, Sirius held up his wand and murmured, "_Accio_." The five girls silenced hovered towards the man.

Lucius gaped at the rune. "What the bloody hell?" He looked at Harry with a look of terror.

"You should choose your enemies more wisely, Lucius." Harry calmly trotted backwards, not breaking eye contact, in the direction of his godfather.

"The girls are gone!" One of the Black Wizards screeched.

"What?" Lucius bellowed and frantically looked around the alley. "Where are they?"

Harry gave a smug grin and pointed towards his godfather. "Oops. Sorry for interfering, sir."

"You are walking on a shaky bridge, boy." Lucius snarled, "Never try that again! _Confringo!_"

The red-colored spell made its way towards Harry. As quick as a kneazle on Muggle steroids, he rolled out of the way.

The spectators cleared out, allowing the two to start an informal duel without interruption. None of them wanted to get hurt.

"Should we help you, milord?" A rookie Black Wizard pointed his wand at Harry.

Lucius snorted arrogantly. "Leave it all to me. Just go after the old man and the five girls."

In the background, Sirius got up and produced a professional dueling stance. A few men from the public joined him, ready to fend off the Death Wizards.

Lucius smirked as he let lose another volley of stunning spells for the heck of it. "_Bombarda! Sectumsempra!_" Lucius shouted in consecutive order. Lucius smiled as the latter enchantment impacted into Harry's left arm, causing him to stagger.

Harry winced as he clutched his arm. Harry shrugged off the pain and flattened himself to the ground. Instantaneously, he began carving a couple of useful runes into the ground. In just five seconds, he was able to engrave his symbol onto cobblestone alleyway. This effectively keyed him into the alley. In theory, this maximized his awareness of his surroundings by a three-fold. In short, it meant better reflexes. Harry leapt from the ground and dodged another spell.

"_Stupendify Maximus_!" Lucius growled as gracefully danced out of the way. _Damn him, _Lucius sneered.

The duel droned on, surprisingly, for two minutes, three seconds, and eighty-nine milliseconds. Lucius growled. It should have ended one minute, fifty-three seconds, and eighty-nine milliseconds ago. The duel was going longer than he had anticipated. Anytime now, the fucking Aurors would be here. He needed to finish the boy off, and fast.

"_Bombarda!" _Harry laughed as he jumped over it._ "Diffindo Maximus_!" Harry dodged the second spell with ease. _Damn his agility! _Lucius snarled.

Out of the corner of his eye, Lucius saw the boy's lapdog – or whomever that old man was – completely defenseless. His back was towards Lucius. Lucius smiled.

In high hopes of tearing up some families that day, he pointed the wand at Harry and shouted, "_Avada Kedavra!_"

It was loud enough so that everyone in the alley could hear it. Loud enough for Harry Potter to dodge it. Loud enough for Sirius Black to freeze in overwhelming fear for the death of his godson. Sirius Black turned around to save his godfather. However, he met face-to-face with the deadly curse.

Harry gasped and quickly rolled backwards as the green spell whizzed past. There were screams of terror and pandemonium, then a loud crash, and finally, silence. Harry slowly got onto his feet and scowled.

"You missed me," Harry looked back up. Why was everybody silent?

"Wasn't aiming to kill you right away kid." Lucius snarled back. "_I_ hit my target." Lucius gestured towards the limp body of Harry's godfather-in-disguise.

Harry's lower jaw dropped. No! This couldn't be happening! This was all an illusion! His adrenaline quickly faded away, tiring Harry quickly. The monster within began to rapidly erode. His dark skin turned pale again.

"Sirius!" Harry let his wand drop to the ground as he rushed over and knelt down next to the lifeless body. Hot tears began streaming down the boy's pale cheeks.

The spectators pitifully watched the lively young man's heart break, being unable to do anything; the women silently wept, promising to offer the brave boy support _if_ he ever made it out of here alive. The men? They gave their silent condolences and focused on dealing with the Death Wizards.

Lucius and the Death Wizards chortled gaily. "Good one, boss!" A deep voice cackled.

"Striking Gryffindor courage, eh . . . Harry? That's your name, isn't it?" Lucius twirled the wand in his hand. "It's really pathetic how many purebloods name their children after the Boy-Who-Lived. Extremely pa-the-tic. Too bad your old man couldn't see you die. But hey, maybe you'll be the next Boy-Who-Lived!" Lucius let out a loud chuckle. The other men in black followed suit.

Young Harry closed his eyes, deep in thought, not paying any attention to the killer: he was determined to bring Sirius back to life, but of course, nothing can bring back the dead.

"Sirius!" The boy screamed with rage and grief. Lucius continued rambling on about how much an imbecile Harry was to interfere, offering him redemption in exchange for being joining the terrorists. "What about my birthday! You didn't even get me my present yet!"

The alley went silent as the young hero screamed at the lifeless body of Sirius Black still under a glamour charm. The five captives felt guilty – it was their fault that a young boy had not only lost a family member but also had a perfectly normal birthday horrendously ruined. But one particular girl thought the boy was stupid.

_What an idiot,_ thought Hermione Granger.

"No!" Harry collapsed onto the road. "Fuck you Fate!"

OoOoO

**Meanwhile**

Aurora swooped down onto the shattered sidewalk and transformed into an immortal Lady Destiny. The woman, probably in her thirties by the looks of it, let her silky brown hair fall back. She apparated from the abandoned ghost town to the sandy beaches of a deserted island where the sun never set.

It was vital to apparate a few times before actually using the Vortex to get to the final destination, just to make sure that not even the sliest of creatures could follow behind.

Sighing, the beautiful immortal woman activated a white orb – the Vortex. The sphere radiated raw energy and expanded into a portal. Instantaneously, the immortal deity was sucked into a black portal full of magical niobium nitride.

Hey, don't ask me what niobium nitride is. It's some sort of weird substance that you'll probably never come across in your life, _ever_. Magical deities often use rare isotopes and allotropes of chemical compounds in their everyday life. If you don't give a damn about all this, then good for you! Anyways. . . .

A few moments later, Lady Destiny's feet touched the red ground. She looked around. This was Mars, Home to the Magical Aristocracy.

Sighing once more, Lady Destiny made her way to a large manor. She was probably late, again. The palace was designed after the American White House and was the living quarters for Lady Destiny, Lady Fátè, and Lord Time.

"Sorry I'm late." The heels of her shoes clicked against the luxurious marble floor. Lady Destiny walked into the living room, where two individuals awaited her arrival. One was a very elderly and feeble-looking male and the other was a young woman who appeared to be in her twenties.

"What took you so long Destiny? We've been waiting for almost an hour now. Even if Lord Timothy doesn't give a damn, I do!" The young woman exclaimed.

"Thank you for your _pleasant _greeting," Destiny smiled.

"Can you _please_ spill your bloody secrets? Tell me who the hell this Potter boy is." The aggressive young lady with red eyes raged. Her eyes matched her auburn hair. Destiny kept her calm and took out her yellow staff, summoning a stack of papers.

"Okay, so what do you want to know exactly?" The immortal brunette asked innocently and raised her thin eyebrows. Her yellow eyes glistened with energy.

Lady Fátè harrumphed and held out her red staff. She summoned her own stack of papers out of nowhere. She began rapidly flipping through the millions of parchments. She grumbled about how much more efficient a Muggle computer, tweaked with magic of course, would be compared to the unfastened pieces of parchment stuck together loosely with weak magic.

"Pai . . . Pan . . . Penman . . . Pomona . . . Potter! Here he is! Potter, Harry James," read the excited deity-like redhead. "Here it is! Listen to what the paper says: Destiny – confidential!" She looked up at Lady Destiny. "What the hell does that mean? And listen to this: Fate – none! Time – no restrictions! Who the hell is this kid, Dest?" She threw the papers into the air in frustration.

"Well, let's just say he's the next Merlin." The brunette bobbed her head towards Lord Time. "Timothy, why don't you tell the rest of the story?"

"Gladly," the blue-eyed blonde grinned. "You see, the kid is from . . . the future. Rather, another reality. His past is completely altered, so this is a new reality."

"What? Bu-but . . . how? Why and how do I _not_ know about this?" The red-head gaped at the other two. "After all, according to the Divine Scriptures, Destiny makes the mortals' destinies, I decide how the mortals are going to reach their destiny, and Timothy controls the time restrictions! Are you two telling me you that you both brought back a mortal back from the future without my consent? Why didn't I get a say in this?"

Lord Time held up his hand and conjured ambrosia, handing it over to the oblivious Lady Fátè, who gratefully gulped down the soothing refreshment.

Destiny took up a more serious tone. "Don't interrupt me until I'm done, okay?" Resentfully, the redhead gave in. "Harry James Potter's destiny was to save the world; furthermore, his death should have been normal and due to old age, not murder. Now, I understand both you and Time regulated the rest of his life, but you Ms. Fátè made a fatal mistake and ended up killing the boy before his time, therefore contradicting his Destiny. Hence, he had to be sent back in time so his Destiny could be fulfilled completely."

"I . . . I messed up someone's Destiny?" A worried Lady Fátè stuttered. "But how badly? I mean everyone ends up dying anyhow. My mistakes couldn't have been that bad." At Destiny's stern glare, she flinched. "I mean he has complete free will in this new life. What happened?"

Lord Time raised his hand once more and drew the redhead's attention. Using his personal blue rod of power, he summoned a stack of parchments containing life histories of all mortals to ever exist.

"I have his full bio right here. Let's see: at age one, his parents were murdered. He spent next ten years like a slave under the watchful eyes of abusive Muggles. He acquired two 'best friends' in his first year at Hogwarts . . . he faced an evil wizard pretending to be a professor . . . he rescued the Sorcerer's Stone–"

"Wait, his life doesn't seem bad at all." The brunette frowned, only to apologize later for interrupting Lord Time.

"Anyways . . . he fought a basilisk at age 12. . . ."

"I made him do that?" Lady Fátè panicked.

". . . . he fought 286 dementors at age 13. . . ."

"You've got to be shitting me." Lady Fátè cocked her head sideways.

". . . . participated in the Tri-Wizard tournament at age 14 , , , was bullied by Wizarding World for two years non-stop . . . manipulated his whole life by Albus Dumbledore . . . oh yeah . . . watched his godfather get murdered. . . ."

"You're bloody lying! I wouldn't make a teen do that, would I?"

". . . . and killed Voldemort in a duel. He barely escaped . . . only to be later betrayed by whom he considered friends and family."

Lady Fátè bit her bottom lip, afraid to know the answer to her next question. "Who betrayed him?" There were tears of pity for the boy-she-would-never-know.

"Long story short," Lord Time started putting away Harry Potter's life profile away, "The Weasleys put Harry under the Imperius Curse simultaneously – that's like seven people right there – and forced him to write out a will that stated the Weasleys would inherit everything he owned after his death. And then, they forced him to commit suicide." Lord Time shook his head in disgust, muttering about how families like the Weasleys didn't deserve to live.

"You're lying! I would NEVER force such a situation! Was I out of my mind or something?" Lady Fátè was hysterical, thinking about how much a bitch she had been.

"You're right . . . you weren't in your right mind. You were really pissed that night and had a bit of too much ambrosia that day." Destiny shrugged noncommittally.

"But don't be too harsh on yourself: everyone makes mistakes, milady." Lord Time smiled genuinely.

"So what do we do? I can't influence Potter anymore. He has free will, Magic damn it! And Lord Timothy can't even put time constrictions on him. When is going to die? When will he get married?"

"We do not know," Lord Time shrugged.

"So we just let him do whatever he wants?" Destiny nodded. "The last person we gave free will to was Merlin Emyrs Peverell. We just . . . leave him be?" The redhead immortal hated free will – mortals never knew what was good for them.

"Well since we screwed up his Destiny before, we are forced to give him Free Will." Destiny nodded her head.

"But why is he so important?" Fate asked. "I mean, I bet you that there are tons of souls with unfulfilled destinies."

"Did I mention that he's the Conqueror of the Skies?" Destiny added.

Lady Fátè gasped. She had messed the destiny of the Chosen? Oh fuck, she was screwed big time. "He's t-the . . . Chosen One?"

"Yeah. Apparently, he's been chosen by our mentors: Lord Death, and Lady Magic. They surely would never approve of our decisions about the boy."

"Do Lord Death, Lady Magic, and Lady Life know what happened?"

"As of the moment, none them know what happened to the boy since they're in a different galaxy; but if they were to ever to find out about this, we would be stripped of our responsibilities."

"But how were you able to send his soul back in time? Did you get someone to help you?"

"Yeah," Time nodded. "We had his godfather rescue him just in time. His soul was brought directly to Mars and I was able to send us all to another parallel universe."

"You asked Apocalypse for a favor?" Fátè asked.

"Yes. So please go along with all this. Don't tell anybody. Just let me to keep an eye out for the Divinely One."

"But you're manipulating the Chosen One in a way by guiding him through life, aren't you?" Lady Fátè asked.

"Yes, I suppose I am. But then again, I'll stay with him for as long as he needs me." Abruptly, Lady Destiny got up and transformed into a magnificent phoenix with green eyes. Bowing her head towards the other two, she flew out of the manor and flashed out of view.

Lady Fátè sighed: her temper always messed things up, always.

OoOoO

"Boy, get out of here. Save yourself," cried one of the parents. "Your efforts were valiant, but are no longer worth it. Save yourself!"

Harry sighed into the pavement. He kept his head buried in his hands. The pain in his stomach came back. This time, he let the beast take over wholeheartedly. He finally had a real reason for revenge.

Life was rubbish – pointless.

It was a freaking endless time-line gone berserk. Innocent people died for no evident reason and the evil always seemed to overpower the good. What the hell, the only people that had once cared for him were now dead!

There was a sudden warm burst of flames in the air.

A larger-than-life phoenix, at least twenty feet large, flew onto the cobblestone ground beside the boy, forming a protective circle around him. It was Aurora in her 'My-Duty-is-To-Protect-The-Chosen-One' Mode. But it was no use: she had already failed. Sirius was dead. Harry looked up at the phoenix with disdain and anger. She was useless.

A sudden wave of determination swept down onto boy-wonder as he looked into the bright green eyes of his bonded familiar. His gaze swept upon the five girls not far from him. They were being all being batted with cutting hexes as a form of minor torture. The adults were once again helpless against the Black Wizards.

Harry quickly jumped to his feet and drew his green wand. He ignored Lucius's wand. After a nod from the gigantic phoenix, he summoned Sirius's wand.

'_Use the power of the skies, Harry.'_Harry scowled at the phoenix's advice. What help was she now? Where had she been five minutes ago! Harry shrugged these thoughts off for later. '_Listen to me, this once.'_

Harry clenched his fists. They began to whiten from lack of blood. He closed his eyes and let rage fuel his power. He let the grief for his dead parents and godfather fuel his energy. And his love? He let the love for Sirius drive the animal within.

Harry let out a loud, ear-piercing screech as his body began to transform, fully this time. Claws burst from the beneath the skin of his clenched knuckles. His palms became rough and scaly. His bare arms darkened to a ruby-red.

The people around gasped, only a few letting out squeals of delight. After all, only a few select individuals knew about the tale about the Conqueror of the Skies, Lucius not being one of them. However, he did back away. I mean come on! The boy grew claws on the back of his hands!

The animal wanted payback. Hesitating slightly, the beast raised both wands towards the sky above and yelled at the top of his lungs, "_Aurous stannic!"_ Two luminescent yellow spells zoomed upwards into the now-visible dark clouds. A thundering crackle echoed through the sky.

_Aurous stannic_? What kind of spell was that? It was a spell that Harry didn't even know he knew.

As if on cue, a bolt of lightning struck down from the heavenly skies and landed upon Lucius Malfoy. The leader staggered back several feet. His wand burnt into ashes. He cried out loud, startling the people around him. As quickly as possible, the man took out a broken quill and croaked, "Portamento," and vanished from the spot.

The crowd stood wide in shock. They had just witnessed a twelve-year-old animal-like boy summon lightning – one of the few divinely wonders – from the skies, transform into a half-dragon, and defeat a fully-grown up criminal. This was a feat that no man in the alley had been able to accomplish.

Harry closed his eyes and hissed, "Who's next?" The remaining Black Wizards looked at one another. Knowing that the Black Wizards would try to do something stupid, Harry bent down and engraved an odd pentagon onto the street without opening his eyes.

"Avad –" A Black Wizard pointed his wand at Harry. Harry looked up and narrowed his eyes at him. His eyes emitted an eerie yellow glow. The Death Wizard stopped the enchantment midway. He gulped and tried to utter the killing curse again, only to have his arm blasted off.

The remaining terrorists screamed in pure terror, which was quite ironic for the entire lot of them. Each of them tried to apparate but failed to.

"You're all dead," the boy croaked in a rather deep and raspy voice. The smart ones hysterically tried their portkeys, only to find them in nonworking conditions. As a last resort, they tried to run away, only to find their feet glued to the ground.

They looked up at the boy's emotionless face. How had he activated such powerful wards? At last, all of the Death Wizards let their wands clatter to the ground (all except one, whom Harry didn't take notice of).

Harry held up his red, scaly hand and whispered, "_Come_." Instantly, a gust of wind pushed all five girls flew over to Harry's side. Having no more strength, Harry Potter groaned and fell to the ground. He doubled over and puked up black and golden fluid.

Nobody attempted to approach the young wizard, afraid that any sudden movements might result in sudden death: they proved right as one of the Death Wizards made the fatal mistake of raising his wand on the boy. The man never had a chance to protest; his leg was torn apart by an invisible force.

Who was this boy?

Everyone watched in awe as the large, twenty-foot large phoenix transformed into a smaller duplicate. Aurora flew over to the injured girls and let her tears trickle onto their bodies, healing the wounds. The phoenix made its way to her master, landing on his left shoulder. It began singing a serene melody. A golden sphere submerged Harry, rejuvenating him.

After a few minutes or so, the boy slowly got to his feet and walked over to his godfather, completely ignorant to the whispers and stares.

The spectators gaped, having nothing better to do.

Grabbing the slumped and lifeless form of Sirius, Harry Potter made his way to the Death Wizards, who wet their pants as he inched closer. He took out a black stone, placed it in Sirius's hand, and activated it. The godfather popped out of the alleyway, leaving a very tired Harry behind.

With drooping eyes, Harry whispered, "_Come._" A gust of wind swept across and collected a variety of wands. The wands hovered back towards Harry.

"Those are our wands!" A brave Death Wizard spoke up, oblivious to the fact that a mere child had defeated him.

"I'll have my revenge later." Harry darkly replied.

Harry was about to activate his own portkey when five, very good-looking teenager girls tackled the young boy wonder to the ground, each attempting to out-best the other in an attempt to hug him.

"Geroffme!" Harry gasped for breath as all five girls blushed and glared daggers at each other, smiling widely at the flustered boy.

Slowly, but surely, the scales began to fade, revealing a rather handsome twelve-year-old boy with beautiful green eyes.

A plump bushy-haired girl, probably twelve-years-old, pushed through the others and held out her hand. "Hi, I'm Hermione Granger. But you can call me 'Mione." She fluttered her eyelashes in rapid succession, attempting to flirt with him. Harry rolled his eyes. He took a sniff and recoiled from the girl. She reeked of deceit, betrayal, and lust.

"Fuck off," Harry grumbled. He didn't want to talk to anyone at the moment. Didn't they realize that his godfather had just been murdered? The girls immediately backed away. He was about to leave when . . . he saw her again. The blondie with blue eyes, the one who had been staring at him earlier. She looked familiar.

"What's your name?" Harry turned towards the girl. The girl instinctively backed away a bit before finding her courage to speak to her savior. The others watched with mild curiosity.

"My name's Daph." She replied shyly. Dragonboy took a waft and nodded satisfied. She was trustworthy, faithful, and loyal. He frowned. Why was she so familiar? Surely, he had met her before.

Picking up some more courage, she added, "I'm sorry about your friend. Whoever he was, he was a very brave man. You have my condolences. You're also very brave."

Slowly, Harry smiled. For the first time in ten minutes, the boy smiled. This made the others relax.

Out of instinct, Harry extended his hand and introduced himself, "Raiden." The other girl shakily took it. He smiled back at her and moved to the Apparation area. Taking a last glance at the alleyway and the gawking girls, the boy whispered "Harry James Potter: Black Manor," and vanished, leaving behind a very ecstatic crowd of witches and wizards.

For the rest of the week, the only thing that the Wizarding World talked about was the Battle of the Alley and the divinely wonder by the name of Raiden, or the Dragonboy.

Everyone was curious; purely relieved. There was finally a young hero to protect them against the darkness-to-come. Someone to fend off the Black Wizards. They finally felt a tad bit safer. Everyone was happy, simply delighted. Well almost everyone was: everyone except for a very paranoid Albus Dumbledore.


	6. A Fresh Start

_Disclaimer_: See Chapter 1. Chapter 6 updated 3-27-11

* * *

A Fresh Start

Lady Fátè walked into the living room, clearly exhausted. _Damn,_ she thought. _Who would have ever thought that deciding the fate of hundreds of souls each day would have been so difficult? And picking out each of their soul mates definitely hadn't been in the job description_. She was about to fall back onto her favorite chair when she noticed that it was already occupied.

"What are you doing here, Dest? Aren't you supposed to be on Earth?" Lady Fátè furrowed her eyebrows and kneeled down next to the brunette. "Dest?" She asked more softly as the Lady Destiny remained motionless. And then she heard a sob.

Lady Destiny looked up, her eyes red and swollen. Fátè let out a gasp and quickly went over to hug her unofficial sister. After a few minutes, Destiny looked up at the other immortal. "I failed," She croaked.

"What do you mean?" Fátè placed a comforting hand on Destiny's shoulder.

"I failed him," Destiny repeated. "I failed."

"You don't . . . mean that," Fátè gave an involuntary shudder before continuing, "that the Chosen is dead?" He couldn't be dead!

Destiny shook her head, "No." Fátè let out a deep breath and closed her eyes. "But his godfather . . . he's gone!" She cried out again.

Fátè brought up hand to comfort Destiny. "It's alright. At least the Chosen is safe, right?"

"But he's not okay," Destiny shook her head. "Harry had to watch his godfather _murdered_ with his own eyes . . . again!" Destiny turned towards Fátè, who gulped and paid a silent prayer to the Chosen's dead mortal guardian. "I wasn't supposed to let this happen again."

"His godfather is dead? How?" Fátè's voice quavered. For the first time in her existence, she felt hopeless.

And so Destiny explained how the boy and his godfather had dueled Death Wizards in Diagon Alley to save some girls' lives. She went on about how his godfather had been hit with a stray killing curse. She went on about how she was assigned the task to bury Sirius Orion Black in Godric's Hallows next to the Potters and Peverells.

And then, she explained how the days following the event went by. She described how Harry had slowly started distancing himself from her. And how he had told her that she was worthless. And that he never wanted to associate himself with her again.

"He called me worthless! The Chosen called me worthless!" Destiny sobbed. Fátè looked disgruntled a bit.

"Don't worry, the kid will calm down sooner or later." Fátè started to play with Destiny's braided hair. "Just knock some sense into him. All males are idiots."

Destiny shook her head. "Don't you understand the importance of all this?" Fátè raised her thin eyebrows and shrugged. "Well missy," Dest hissed, "failure is unacceptable here in the immortal world. I vowed – don't you understand? I vowed to keep the Black and Potter family safe and sound. And I failed! I broke a magical oath, Fátè!" Fátè cursed, quite creatively, and let Destiny rage a bit more.

"I still don't get it, Dest." Fátè shrugged. "You're immortal. You can't die, and you can't lose your magic. So what's the big deal. The magical oath has no effect on you."

"Oh, but it does!" Destiny sighed plopped her head into her hands. "I can't go anywhere within fifteen vortex-meters – that's like thirteen miles – within Harry anymore."

"Bu-but," Fátè gaped and sputtered, before biting her tongue quite hard. "You're his familiar and secret guardian. Who's going to keep him safe from danger now? He's the bloody Chosen! He doesn't even have any other decent guardians left, Magic damn it! What's a twelve-year-old supposed to do all alone in the real world?"

Destiny's shoulders slumped as she flipped over onto her stomach. "Nobody can help him. He's on his own . . . again."

OoOoO

Harry Potter stared down at the twenty or so wands in his hand. He twirled the wands one by one, examining each one before setting it down and repeating the process – this was a great way to kill time.

Every one of these wands had once belonged to a Death Eater. They were souvenirs of the worst day ever. What was Harry to do with twenty-two wands in a duel?

Harry sighed and got up from the kitchen table, cleaning up the left-over pancakes and syrup, despite Kreacher's outcries of concern. He walked into the kitchen, placed the plates in the sink for Kreacher to finish cleaning, and made his way to the living room.

Harry looked at his watch and noticed it was going to be noon in two hours. Shrugging, the twelve-year-old boy stretched out across the comfy suede couch. He unintentionally kept glancing towards the entrance doors, involuntarily hoping that his godfather was still alive and would walk through the great glass French doors at any moment. For the past two weeks, Harry Potter did absolutely nothing but stare at these doors: he was in denial. The young teen was broken and in great need of friends.

Especially now more than ever. He had absolutely no friends whatsoever. Not even Aurora. Even she had left him.

Harry whimpered, gripping a fistful of his raven-like sleek hair in both hands. He had made two huge mistakes in life so far. Mistake number one: he had tried to rescue five innocents without thinking of the consequences. Mistake number two: he had cursed his magical familiar without thinking about the consequences beforehand. And now, he was alone. Harry Potter needed a fresh start.

OoOoO

**Flash!**

'_Youngest Potter, please listen to me.'_ Aurora begged inside Harry's empty mind. Harry glanced at his only friend perched on top of the couch. She was trying to comfort her master by nuzzling his left cheek.

"What do you want me to do?"Harry asked in a dreadful voice. He looked at the bird and curled his lip up in disgust. She was the reason Sirius was dead. He clenched his fists.

She could have been there with him in the alley . . . but _no_. She had been _busy_. Sure she had been sorry for Sirius's life, but it obviously hadn't been a sincere apology. And besides, a simple 'sorry' wouldn't be enough. Words couldn't begin to describe the importance of human life.

'_Can you please go to Gringotts? Please, you must! Sirius Orion Black's will contains some important pieces of information for you!'_

"I will not go to Diagon Alley again!"

'_It is vital that –'_

Harry snarled in a very out-of-character manner. "Want to know what happened the last time I went there? Hmm . . . let's think . . . oh yeah! Sirius was bloody murdered!" Harry's eyes tingled with hints of red.

'_Please! You can't just spend the rest of your life on this couch! You have a destiny to fulfill, for__Merlin's sake! You are the damn Conqueror of the Skies!'_

"Oh, that's great," Harry added sarcastically. "Hey everybody! I'm no longer the Boy-Who-Lived, but the Conqueror of the Skies. Isn't that just _swell_?"

'_Please . . . you might even make some friends . . . who may just happen to be female.'_ Aurora teased, hoping Harry would smile. He didn't.

"You know what Aurora? Just piss off!" Harry whispered back crankily. "This is no longer a joke. Life isn't funny. Not the slightest bit."

'_Harry darling, you should –'_

"Shut up!" Harry shouted at the bird. "Go find yourself a bloody new master. I'm through with you! Where the hell were you when Sirius fell to Lucius's AK? Where were you when I desperately needed to fire-flash out of the alley? Where were you when I needed you the most?"

'_Harry, I have apologized so many times. I am truly sorry," _Aurora's voice echoed inside of Harry's head. _'I was busy.'_ This seemed to irritate the boy even more.

"Sorry won't cut it!" Harry hissed. "And you were busy, huh? Then why did you come in and try to save the day when I clearly had things under control? Were you busy then? Why couldn't you leave me to my fate. You should have left me to die!

'_Harry, don't think like that. I was only trying to help you. I would have come earlier if I had gotten the chance.'_

"Well guess what. You're just as bad as Dumbledore! You're using me for something! Ju-just . . . get away from me . . . as far as you possibly can!"

And with that, Harry stormed away from the living room. He headed for Sirius's bedroom on the fourth floor.

He hadn't thought of the consequences beforehand. Well, what did you expect? He's a teenage boy who occasionally has strong mood swings every now and then.

OoOoO

So when Harry came to apologize that very night, Aurora was long gone. He had looked around the entire house. He searched the closets, cupboards, bathrooms, the basement, the attic, the garden, even the roof.

But his search was all in vain. She was gone. His first friend. Gone... without a trace. But the real question was: would she be his last?

Aurora. Where was she? Would he ever see her again? Harry sighed out in frustration. He had to fix this mess. This wasn't supposed to happen!

He was supposed to be going to Hogwarts this year as a transfer student from America under the disguised alias name, Harry Black Peverell. Sirius would have dropped him off at King's Cross station where he and Aurora would have formed new friends and _BAM_! Happy ending like in every other awesome storybook. But life was cruel. Darn.

This wasn't supposed to be happening.

Biting his upper lip, Harry came up with the most bizarre idea. _Well, maybe not the most bizarre_, Harry gloomily mused as painful memories of his times with Sirius poked around Harry's fragile mind.

Shaking his head, Harry continued with his ingenious idea or plan, or whatever it was; hopefully, Aurora would be in Diagon Alley! After all, she was the one who had told him to go there in the first place.

Harry slowly nodded, hoping that he was right. She had to be there. Where else would she be? Surely she hadn't abandoned him so quickly. She was probably in Gringott's Bank! Harry jumped out of his seat and rushed to the master suite bathroom. _Danger, here I come!_

Yet even after all the things he had been through, Harry Potter forgot to think about the consequences beforehand, once more.

OoOoO

Pocketing all twenty-two and a half – the broken wand would be useful in engraving runes – wands in his right-hand pants pocket, Harry pulled on a velvet tuxedo and a long dragon-hide traveling cloak to cover the tux. He applied hair gel to his unruly raven hair; lathered aging cologne on his body and aging lotion on his face as a form of glamour; and put on dragon-hide boots that would act as a portkey to the Black Manor when tapped together.

There was definitely no way people would be able to recognize him, right?

Harry thundered down the staircase and rushed into the basement to collect a few things. He smiled grimly at the sight of his full-sized Runes carving set, Professional Edition. The carving kit had been last year's birthday present. He quickly stuffed the different assorted quills, protractors, rulers, special bottles of colored and magically-powered ink, and etcetera into his magically-enlarged duffel bag and slung the bag over his shoulder. He had a bad feeling that he wouldn't be seeing Black Manor for a while, perhaps for several hours or even days.

Finally, he reached over for the only thing he had left of his godfather – the guitar. Harry's fingers caressed the curved sides of the sleek, black acoustic guitar. It had been on sale at this cool Muggle store almost three years ago. And his godfather, deciding to be the Ladies' man, bought one and tried it out. It wasn't really that great, or at least not as good-sounding as Harry had expected.

So for Sirius's last year birthday, Harry had engraved some Ambient runes into the heart of the guitar. The Greek and Celtic combination of Ambient Runes had been perfect to improve the strumming accuracy, proficiency, and sensitivity. With the masterpiece Runework – Җ۩ ۞ – the guitar sounded godly and surreal. Simply beautiful to the ears.

Harry smiled as fresh tears stung his cheeks. It was all he had left of his godfather now. He grabbed the guitar, engraved an unbreakable rune on the back of the handle, and slung it over his back.

Taking a deep breath, Harry called out, "Kreacher!"

After a second's delay, there was an audible pop. "Master Harry is being calling Kreacher. Kreacher being at your service, sir." Kreacher bowed deeply, much to Harry's displeasure.

"Kreacher, please don't call me master. I'm your friend." He smiled. Kreacher nodded and apologized firmly. "Um . . . I might not be able to come back home any time soon." Kreacher nodded nobly. "I need for you to guard and take care of the house while I'm gone. Understood?"

"Kreacher being understanding of what Sir Harry is saying. Kreacher will do his best, sir!" He saluted and popped away, but not before asking Harry if he needed any more help.

Harry bid the empty house goodbye. Sirius had once told him that the house was alive. Who knew? Maybe old man Siri was right after all. Harry smiled and headed out of the door and into the dark alley.

He rushed out unnoticed and started to casually fast-walk towards the nearest underground metro station. He had only been on the underground train once, and that had been almost three years ago.

_Damn_. Harry grumbled. Why did the Muggle transportation system have to be so difficult? The Knight Bus would have been so much easier . . . only if he could use a wand. But the damn wands in his pocket were all useless. They all probably had Tracking charms on them, either from the Dark Wizards or the Ministry.

OoOoO

"Excuse me," Harry went up to the counter. "Can you show me how to get a ticket?"

The young women behind the counter peered down at the young man. He appeared to be eighteen. _Quite handsome_, she mused. _Only two years younger than me._

"Of course, sir." She then proceeded to go into detail about how the automated ticket machine worked. She also went on to describe the whole underground map and routes needed to get around. Harry thanked her profusely and walked away, choosing to ignore the sultry look she gave him.

As he left, she gave him one last sad look. She sniffed. Why wasn't he interested in her? He had seemed like a decent bloke. The young man was quite the ladies' man as well, especially with that nifty guitar on his back. She sighed and went back to work. She would get a date someday.

Harry quickly pulled out his ticket and inserted it into the slot machine. After hearing the validation of the ticket, he walked right through the machine-automated entrance. Walking across a few platforms, he ended up right in front of a bright blue train. It was called the 'Bullet X.' On the side, it read: 'Where luxury is just a stop away.' What did that imply?

He boarded the train and took a seat next to the window. He pulled out a book on Runes Mastery and began to reread the last few chapters. He was still learning how to put up unbreakable and professional-like wards but couldn't get them to be perfect.

He was concentrating on his reading so much that he didn't realize a bunch of girls take seats around him. He finally noticed his fan club when an elder teen, eighteen years old at least, 'accidentally' brushed her thigh up against his.

"Oh, I didn't see you there." The strawberry-blonde smiled sweetly and straightened her shirt, exposing a bit of her cleavage – more than appropriate. Harry cringed at such dirty thoughts and looked around at the other five or so girls checking him out intently. They also gave him sultry smiles. He swore that he saw this one girl grab her cleavage and give him a cheeky grin, making an inappropriate hand gesture towards his crotch.

_Damn it_, he groaned. _Today was going to be a long day_.

Completely ignoring the damned girls surrounding him, he continued to read, much to the girls' annoyance. They were all waiting for him to make the first move, perhaps ask one of them for their phone number? But too bad poor Harry wasn't trained in the antics of flirting.

"Attention ladies and gentlemen. Welcome aboard the Bullet X." A person on the loudspeaker started talking, introducing himself. "We shall be leaving shortly. Next stop is Tenux. The other stops are as follows: Turnpike, Kenton, Downtown London, and finally Cyprus. Please stand clear of the closing doors." The conductor stopped speaking and the doors closed promptly afterward.

Harry looked outside the window as the train began moving. The train descended into a dark tunnel. _So much for sightseeing,_ Harry grumbled. He sighed and closed his eyes. After a few minutes, he dozed off. The two girls nearest him took their opportunity and placed their heads on either side of the young man's shoulder.

OoOoO

Slightly dazed by the simple train ride, Harry stumbled out onto the platform. It had only been three stops, and already, Harry felt violated. He politely waved back at fifteen females still on the train and sighed in relief. With every stop, his fan club seemed only to increase. He had awoken with three girls clinging onto him, literally!

Harry looked up at the sign again and reread the train company's motto. _So much for luxury,_ Harry grunted. Next time, he would use less magical cologne and hair gel. They obviously contained a tad too many sex pheromones.

Without further ado, the boy quickly rushed up the stairs and sprinted across the street, hoping to avoid the darn stalkers on his tail. Skidding to a stop, he rushed into the Leaky Cauldron and hastily pushed open the doors.

Harry looked around the dark pub and realized that nobody had noticed his subtle entrance. Humming with satisfaction, he quickly walked to the back of the pub and tapped the brick wall like Sirius had done a few days, the only difference being that he used a broken wand to do it. He didn't want to risk having to use any wands being tracked.

OoOoO

Harry calmly strutted into Gringotts bank. He took a glance at his surroundings. There were hundreds of goblins working on different jobs behind a desk on raised platforms. Each goblin, he noted, had the same trademark toothy grin on their face. The goblins were clever and experts in accounting and Runes. Harry respected them for that very reason.

Harry had expected Aurora to be somewhere around here. But she wasn't here after all. Maybe she was a lost cause. Shrugging, he walked up to an unoccupied desk.

"Excuse me," Harry interrupted a goblin punching something into the typewriter. The goblin looked up and grunted, probably saying something unpleasant in gobbledygook.

"What do you want?" He said, in a not-so-kind tone. "Please state your business or leave. Time is gold and of the most utmost essence."

"Yeah . . . um. . . ." Harry didn't know how to deal with these sorts of things. Sirius had always been the one to handle the adult stuff. "I-I want to take a . . . look at my account." Harry nodded slowly. He just had a good feeling about being at Gringotts at the moment.

The goblin studied Harry closely. "Very well. What is your name?" The goblin pulled out a quill and began to write something down.

"Um . . . my name?" Harry said a bit meekly. The goblin rolled his eyes.

"What, you do not know your own name?" The goblin snorted and shook his head. "Please, if you are here to waste time, I –"

"Wait . . . there's too many people here that can listen into what I say. Can we go somewhere more private?"

The goblin sighed. "Very well. You may use the conference rooms. But be warned. We charge twenty galleons per hour of privacy."

"That's alright. Thank you," Harry paused before continuing, "Griphook."

The goblin looked flabbergasted. "How did you know my name?"

Harry grinned and pointed to the goblin's shirt. "It says 'Griphook' on your name tag."

The goblin frowned before giving Harry a rare smile. "You are quite a peculiar wizard. Not many humans even attempt to call us goblins by our rightful names. Thank you."

"Oh . . . um . . . okay. Shall we get going?" Harry gestured for the goblin to lead him to the conference room. The goblin nodded and started making his way towards the back of the bank where stairs were located.

OoOoO

As soon as Harry walked into conference room number two, his glamour charms wore off. In vile attempts to conceal his real identity, he tried to put his hand up to his scar. Griphook looked up at him and smiled.

"Ah, Mr. Potter. Pleasure to meet you. I was wondering when you would come here."

Harry sighed in frustration and grinned weakly. "It's all part of the plan."

"There's no point in hiding you identity now. Your identity is safe with us. So, are you here with your magical guardian or are you still a runaway?"

"Um . . . I don't know. I actually needed advice, I guess." Griphook gaped.

"You are seeking goblins for advice on human affairs?" Harry nodded. "Peculiar."

"So. As I was saying, my godfather died a few days ago. And now, I don't have any clue on what to do next." Harry looked down at the marble floor. "And his name was Sirius Orion Black."

Griphook nodded, not acting surprised that the boy had associated himself with a supposedly mass murderer. "Yes. He did die a few days ago. His will is currently unread. I believe he left some important things in your possession. Do you wish to review the will?" Harry nodded. The goblin rushed out of the room and returned with two pieces of paper in hand instead of the expected one.

"This," the green goblin placed the two pieces of parchment on the table in the center of the room, "is the Potters' will and this is Sirius Orion Black's will. It seems that the Potters' will was never read or obeyed correctly. But first, we need to verify that you are indeed Harry James Potter Black. Please place a sample of your blood onto both wills using this knife. One drop of blood shall be sufficient for each will."

Harry furrowed his brows and reluctantly made a cut on his forefinger. He smeared the edge of each will with a drop of blood. Each will shone a bright yellow before returning to its normal state.

"Wonderful!" Griphook grinned jovially. "You are now officially the last male descendant of the Peverells, the Potters, and the Blacks." The goblin frowned. "Additionally, you are the descendant of several unknown families, which will be revealed with age."

Harry's jaw dropped. He didn't remember being a descendant of the Blacks nor the Peverells. And unknown families? Could titles be passed off through wills? He picked up the wills and began reading each. His eyes widened as he scanned through each of them.

_The Will of James Potter and Lily Potter,_

_We give our best friend Sirius Orion Black 250, 000 galleons and give him the complete responsibility over Harry James Potter's eight vaults._

_We give our best friend Remus Lupin 250, 000 galleons and an estate in Vienna, Italy._

_We give our mentors Minerva McGonagall, Filius Flitwick, and Pomona Sprout each 20,000 galleons._

_We give our beloved son all Potter estates along with complete access to the Potter and Peverell vaults. We also make him Lord Potter as soon as he turns fifteen years of age._

_P.S. Please forgive us, son, for not being able to be with you. If you got this will, it most likely means Voldemort killed us, although we don't know if you are still alive. If not, we would like to share the rest of Harry James Potter's holdings with Remus Lupin and Sirius Black and hope they can fairly distribute everything amongst the needy and friends._

_Total Money in Potter Vaults: 27, 050, 302 Galleons; 1 Knut; 3 manors located worldwide_

_Total Money in Peverell Vault: 832, 409 Galleons; 3 Knuts; 1 Pervell Castle in Wales_

_Total Value: 27, 882, 711 Galleons; 4 Knuts; 8,050,392 Galleons worth of estates_

_Total: 35, 933, 103 Galleons, 4 Knuts; increases by 15 % every year due to investments_

_Businesses Owned: Five_

Harry Potter nearly fainted when he read the end of the will. He was bloody rich! "I have eight vaults?" He mumbled to himself. He glanced at Sirius's will and gaped once more.

_The Will of Sirius Orion Black,_

_I give 250,000 galleons to Remus Lupin and the Grimmauld Place Manor_

_I give the Tonks family 500,000 galleons and welcome Andromeda back to the Black family_

_I annul the marriage between Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black_

_I annul the illegal marriage between Ginerva Weasley and Harry Potter._

_I give my godson, Harry James Potter, everything else. Furthermore, I make him the next Lord Black when he is fourteen years of age and request for him to go to my room in the Black Manor where a letter is on my bedside. Say 'I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,' and comply with what I have to say, for my sake. Please!_

_Total Money in Black Vaults: 98,132,566 Galleons, 3 Knuts; 7 estates worldwide_

_Total Value: 98, 132, 566 Galleons; 83,103,994 Galleons worth of estates_

_Total: 181, 236, 560 Galleons, 3 Knuts; Increases by 13% every year due to investments_

_Businesses Owned: Three_

"I'm a freakin' millionaire! I-I didn't even know," Harry glanced at Griphook. "What now?"

Griphook presented Harry with one final piece of parchment. It was signed by Ignatius Peverell. "This was to presented to you on your twelfth birthday."

_To whom it may concern:_

_My dear descendant. I have foreseen the future and warn you that there are two old madmen on the loose. Do not trust them. Both shall cause disruption in your life. And now onto business. You, my really _really_ great grandson, are the last male descendant of the Really Ancient and Noble House of Peverell. We are the long-lost descendants of Hecate. You are the descendant of a magical deity, my son. You are therefore, without doubt, going to be special. Although I haven't the time to do experimentation, I know that your magical core will be extremely unstable, perhaps surpassing the super core of Merlin himself. Therefore, I have arranged a marriage between you and a well-known Veela family. Your bond to her will keep your core stable as Veelas' allure draws in magic at exponential rates, hence making males very vulnerable. This will keep your magic under control. Her name, I believe, is Katherine Bell. Please do not be angry for this is for your own good. However, it is my deepest concern that you continue our family name. May you be very fertile._

_Sincerely,_

_Lord _PEVERELL

Griphook snapped Harry out of his thoughts and handed him a luxurious, velvet box. Harry opened it gently. Whatever was inside, it seemed expensive. He was right. Inside of the box, there was the Peverell Head of the Family ring.

"The Peverells are known to have their descendants emancipated at young ages. It is said that the familial powers are enclosed within this ring. Only a worthy heir can put it on. It is in order that you place this ring on your left ring finger."

Harry Potter quickly complied. The ring enlarged and gave an eerie black glow before fading back to normalcy. And then, Harry started hearing voices. He swiftly jerked his head the other way.

"Harr-reee!" The voices began to reverberate around the room. The goblin in the room gasped. He pointed towards the ring. It was emitting off different colored lights in ten-second intervals.

"I should leave you here. The raw magic in this room has quadrupled. This must be a side-effect . . . I shall come back in ten minutes." The goblin quickly scurried away, leaving a terrified Harry Potter behind, alone in the room.

"Harr-eeee!" The voices reverberated inside of the room again. Harry yelped and dove behind the nearest table. "Haarrreee!" The voice rasped out. Gulping Harry peeked from behind the hiding spot. He froze.

"James? Why the hell are we in a bloody conference room in Gringotts? And stop moaning your son's goddamn name! It sounds like your making love to him or something." James scowled at Sirius.

"I don't know, Padfoot. One minute, you were telling me about Harry and the next thing you know, we're somehow in Gringotts. Say, where's Lily?" James Potter scratched his head.

"I just wish that I could see Harry again. Wait, did I tell you about the time when he–" Sirius was about to continue when. . . .

"D-dad? Si-Siri?" Harry croaked. The two dead adults looked up at the terrified boy, with equal looks of horror and surprise.


	7. Befriending the Unknown

_Disclaimer_: See Chapter 1. Chapter 7 updated 3-27-11

* * *

Befriending the Unknown

"Ha-harrikins?" Sirius gaped. "But . . . how?" The white image of Sirius Black glided towards Harry. "You're not dead, are you pupsicle?" He held out his hand and tried to ruffle the mop of raven hair on his godson's head. To his shock, his hand just went right through.

James walked – no, glided – towards his son. He admired his visage for a few minutes before speaking up. "Wow son, you look just like me. Bloody scary." He went over and 'hugged' his son, wrapping his transparent arms around Harry. Harry fervently hugged his father back.

Harry looked up at Sirius and then at his father. "What are you guys doing here? And why are you ghosts?"

James shrugged. "Beats me." Then, he realized the odd ring on Harry's left ring finger. "Is that what I think it is?" Harry frowned. "That's the Peverell Head of the House ring!"

"Um . . . yeah? How do you know? Is it important or something?"

Sirius looked up at James. "Do you mean Peverells as in the same Peverell brothers who cheated death?"

James nodded. "I think that the ring contains the Resurrection Stone. I used to use it. It lets you summon people from the dead temporarily. Say Harry, why don't you summon Lily? Bet she's fussing over us already." He grinned sheepishly.

"How do I do that?" Harry played around with the ring on his finger before looking back up at his father.

"Beats me. I never got used to it completely. It just used to happen randomly. I used to summon my mum from the dead all the time. She gave me advice and stuff from time to time. Strong emotions and determination is all you need, I guess." James scratched the mop of transparent black hair atop his head. "I guess . . . you just think about the person while wearing the ring or something. Try it." He looked back up at his son.

Harry inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. He frowned in concentration. A few moments later, he opened his eyes and looked around. "Nothing happened." He let his gaze wander across the room for a few seconds.

"Maybe you can only summon a limited number of people at a time." Harry looked up and solemnly nodded, disheartened a bit by the fact that he couldn't 'air-hug' his dead mother.

"So . . . um . . . it's great to see you again Sirius!" Harry piped up. He grinned at Sirius.

Sirius looked back and then around the conference room. "Say, where's Aurora? James was all hyped-up about having a phoenix as a familiar. Where is she?"

Harry bit his lip and chose to ignore the topic. "Um . . . I'm sorry you had to die Siri. I should have listened to you." It was a bit Slytherin of him to dodge the topic of discussion, actually.

Sirius's face lit up. "Wait, how _did_ you get out of the alley?"

"How else do you think? I bloody dueled my way out." Harry said, rolling his eyes.

"You dueled?" James asked incredulously. "How? What are you, thirteen or something?"

"I'm twelve now, dad. And yes, I used my 'amazing' dueling skills to get out of there."

"That's my boy!" James pumped the air with a clenched fist. "So, what spells did you use?"

Harry grew nervous. As a matter of fact, he didn't exactly know _how_ he beat the Death Wizards. It was all luck and instinct, right? And a bit of the animal within, whatever that was.

"Um . . . let's not waste time now." Harry gulped visibly, but the adults didn't take notice. "So, what should I do now? I'm alone and all. I have no guidance at all."

Sirius spoke up. "Did you read my letter yet?"

Harry shook his head. "Not yet. I just read your will today."

Sirius hummed in agreement. "Right. So, just bare with me here, okay Prongsie?" Harry frowned but decided that Sirius was always right. "Okay, it is my wish – as well as your parents' wish – that you go to Hogwarts regardless my death."

Harry scowled. "B-but . . . what about Dumbledore? Won't he notice that I'm Harry Potter, not Harry Peverell Black?"

Sirius shook his head. "He won't be able to do much, especially with that hotshot." He pointed to the Peverell ring. "The Head of the House ring lets you control your magic better and keep up permanent glamour charms."

"Wait a second." James blurted out. "How can you use the ring if you're not bonded yet? _Are_ you bonded?"

"Um . . . what?" Harry looked clueless. "Bonded? With whom?"

"With your bondmate, of course. That's the only way that the Peverell ring is fully functional. That's probably why you couldn't summon your mother. You don't have total control over it yet."

"How do you get bonded?" Harry stuttered. Bonding . . . with girls? He gulped and shuddered at the thought.

James cleared his throat and pretended to act professional. "Well, I presume that it is necessary to get access to the girl first. You must be within exactly fifteen point one two three centimeters while wearing the ring – which should be on your ring finger of your left hand – for precisely twenty-two and a half minutes and –"

"Wait, what are you saying?" Harry frowned.

James began to chuckle at Harry's clueless face. "What do you think?" James exclaimed, laughing out loud. "You just kiss the bloody girl."

Harry scowled. Kiss? "Heavens no! I'm not kissing a girl!"

Sirius sighed. "It's not about romance, Harry. You just have to kiss the girl because you need to. Otherwise, Dumbledore will be able to see right through you. He'll force you under his clutches. Just a quick peck on the cheek or something. But your mouth and her skin need to touch in order for it to work. And, it's for your own good, really."

Harry groaned. Suddenly, he perked up his head. "Um . . . dad?" His dad looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. "Who was your supposed bondmate?"

James scowled. "I had to marry someone in the Bell family too. But it didn't work out because at the time, there were no female heiresses, only males. That's why I never got to use my Peverell powers properly. That and the fact that I fell in love with Lily flower the second I saw her! But I wish I could start a mini harem like you, son," He grinned. "But Lily would kill me and call me a sloth."

Harry's jaw dropped. "Um . . . harem? Are you crazy? I can barely stand a single girl. How the heck am I supposed to go for more than one?"

James beamed. "Because we forced you to." At Harry's blank face, he chuckled. "You'll find out soon enough. You're not Lord Black or Potter yet, so I'm not telling." James bantered, grinning. "Let's just say that for each separate Ancient and Noble House, you need one wife. Now do the math."

Harry groaned. _Three wives? Maybe even more! Fudgesickles with Berty's Every Flavored Beans on top!_

Suddenly, the images of James and Sirius began to flicker. James spoke up one last time, "Remember Harry. Live to forgive and forget. And . . . befriend the unknown!" And with that, the two ghosts disappeared. Silence reigned for a while.

Griphook returned. "Ah, it seems all is back to normal." He took out a few pieces of parchment and began to shuffle through them, making discrete notes about something along the margins. "So, are you ready to leave or do you require more assistance?"

"Griphook, is it true that I need to bond with my bondmate before my Head of the House ring is fully functional?" He was hoping that his dad just played a big prank on him or something.

Griphook frowned. "I am not sure. But I believe that the letters given to you should have confirmed your questions. As I said before, the Peverells are very unique and have well-kept secrets. I cannot tell you for I do not know myself."

Harry ruffled his own hair. _Damn_. "Um . . . to make a bond, do I _have to_ make lip-to-lip contact or what?"

The goblin smirked. "I believe so. Unless you would rather make love to her and –" Harry yelped out loud, causing the goblin to chuckle out loud. "But a kiss, as you may call it, is preferred."

"And one last thing." Harry took out his own parchment of paper along with a Muggle ballpoint pen. "Where is the house of the Bell family located?"

"May I write it down for you?" Harry nodded and put his writing utensils away. "I'll be right back, sir." The goblin quickly went to the other room and came back with a small parchment with an address on it.

Harry nodded. "Thank you. Your help is extremely appreciated."

The goblin gave Harry a crooked grin. "We are always willing to help couples on their way to continuing family lines."

"You're all barmy," Harry mumbled under his breath. He sighed and went up to Griphook. "Thank you Griphook." He shook the goblin's hand firmly and made his exit.

He had a girl to snag. Or snog. Same thing, right?

OoOoO

Harry walked up to the front door and knocked. He looked around the porch. There was a small light hanging down from the ceiling. There were lilies, roses, and dandelions scattered across the front lawn. The grass was nicely trimmed. All in all, the house looked tidy and comfortable.

After nobody opened the door, he knocked again. This time, he knocked with his left hand. He seemed to have more strength in his left forearm. As a matter of fact, his left bicep, his left pectoral muscle, his left leg: they were all slightly stronger than their respective right-sided counterparts.

What was the reasoning behind this? He didn't know. He had always considered his right hand his dominant since he used it to write with. But then again, he was odd.

Finally, a woman opened the door. She stood five feet seven inches off the ground and possessed beautiful gray-blue eyes. Her honey-blonde hair was tied up in a tight bun. But something was wrong with this perfect picture. She was crying, her eyes red and puffy. Harry gulped. He wasn't good with hysterical females.

"What do you want?" The bubbly woman snarled, her lips quivering. She looked over Harry's shoulder, as if expecting someone to pop up from behind and attack her.

Harry licked his lips and thought of the best way to start the conversation. "Um . . . can I talk to Katherine Bell? And her parents?" The woman burst into silent tears at the mention of the name. "Ma'am, is everything all right?" He held out his hand and placed it on her shoulder.

"She's not here." The elder women sniffed. "Who are you?"

He took in a deep breath. "I am her future bondmate, Lord Peverell."

The woman gasped, and then fanned herself with both hands. "Smith! Come here, quick!" A few moments later, a man appeared in the doorway. He was stout, had black, beady eyes, and a thick mustache. He also had brown hair, but barely any at all. He was about to ask who the boy in the doorway was when she blurted out, "He's Lord Peverell!"

Understanding dawned upon the man. He quickly held out his hand and ushered the boy in. He led Harry into the living room. "It's nice to meet you at last. We were worried when you didn't show up at our door last year." He sat down on the couch and began to fidget. "But we have a huge favor to ask of you and will be in your debt forever!"

Harry frowned. "Um . . . ask away, sir."

His hands trembled as he spoke chokingly, "Our daughter has been kidnapped. By none other than Lucius Malfoy. And he wants a ransom of 600,000 galleons! But we can't afford that much. Please, you have to help us!" He fell on the floor on one knee, practically begging. "Please, we'll do anything, but please bring back our baby doll. Please!"

Harry stayed silent. His demeanor darkened immediately. "Did you say Malfoy?" _Damn,_Harry grumbled. _Fuck you Fate._

The man nodded, still on the floor, weeping his eyes out. "Please, I'll give up my own life. My house name. My family ring. Just bring back our baby doll." He looked up at Harry, expecting an answer.

Harry nodded. The man leaped off the ground and hugged the boy. "Oh thank you so much, my dear boy! How can I ever repay you?"

Harry shook his head. He spoke in monotone, "You don't owe me anything." The man gaped. "Just don't lose her again."

The man looked at the boy with confusion. "You don't want anything in return?" Harry shook his head. "B-but . . . are you sure you can manage it all by yourself? How are you going to do it? You're just a . . . a boy."

Harry gave a rare dark smile. "I have connections." And with that, he stalked out of the living room and out into the backyard, silently declining the pumpkin juice the woman had offered. The two adults didn't follow him.

He closed his eyes and began to search his insides. He searched for the animal within. This was the first time that he was willingly to summon his alter ego. He searched deep within the pure soul, deep within the troubled and entrenched heart, and deep within the hollow and endless mind.

And there, he found the flaw. The black blotch of ink on the blank white piece of parchment.

It was red. He grasped it and felt it enlarge at an exponential rate. It began to take over his mind. His heart. His soul. And finally, Harry opened his eyes. He considered his surroundings closely before pulling out two wands at random, one of them being his primary green one, and bellowed, "_Aurous stannic_!"

And with a loud crack, a bolt of lightning struck the boy in question. There, then, right at the spot, the boy vanished. Dragonboy dematerialized away.

OoOoO

Dragonboy appeared in a dark alley, right next to three green dumpsters stacked side-by-side. Sighing and having no other option, he cautiously walked out of the alleyway and onto the deserted street. He looked down at his arms. They were pale and showed hints of red and golden scales. He wasn't fully transformed. He was still in control of himself. Sort of.

He squinted and walked across the street, where stood a magnificent manor. Harry sensed raw magic. It was being emitted from the front gates, probably in the form of some sort of wards. Outside the black gates, a sign read: Malfoy Manor. Harry's insides began churning.

The animal instinct quickly temporarily took over. It overpowered Harry's mind.

"Lucius," he snarled in his abnormal, raspy voice. His head rotated and twitched in place for a good ten seconds. "Payback is in order."

Ignoring the 'Danger: Exum Wards Up and Running,' he gracefully walked up to the manor gates that stood at least twenty feet in height. Rubbing his chin in feigned worry with a raised eyebrow, he took out one of the spare wands and bent down.

Biting his lip, he began to engrave five particular Rune letters into the sidewalk: ΩΣΘΨΧ. After a good seven minutes, thirty-eight seconds, and seven hundred milliseconds, Harry sighed out loud. He gazed up at the manor once more.

The young Runes expert slowly got onto his feet and took out his green wand. He aimed his wand at the five letters and enchanted, "_Vado,"_clearly activating the Runes.

He nodded his head as each letter glowed a different color and then submerged into the sidewalk, rendering the one who activated them complete safety within a how-many-ever-meters radius for how-many-ever minutes. In his case, he was protected from any complex wards that may have been set up within a fifty-feet vicinity for two minutes tops.

Harry slipped the wands back into his pockets and quickly began to climb the tall front gate. _Good thing I went mountain climbing with Sirius last year_, Harry internally mused as he reached the top and perched upon the gate, looking out for any sentries or house-elves stationed near the grounds. Shrugging his shoulders, Harry pointed his green wand at his feet and levitated himself to the ground gently with a simple "_Windgardium Leviosa_." He was careful not to make any noise whatsoever.

He was about to make his way towards the grand oak front doors to blast his way in when he heard loud screams. They were coming from an open window located towards the back of the manor.

"No father! I will _not_ cast the Cruciatus curse on her! She's my damn friend!" It sounded like a hysterical teenager, probably around twelve years of age or so. Curiously, Harry rushed towards the commotion. Dragonboy cocked his head in disgust at the scene in front of him.

Lucius Malfoy had a slender mahogany-black wand pointed at a teenage boy. Harry assumed the boy to be his son. "Draco, Draco. Why do you associate yourself with Mudbloods like dear Jessica? Do you dare stoop this low, Draco? Where is your honor?"

"At least I don't kidnap innocent girls," the boy snarled.

Lucius chuckled. "Why did you make friends with this Mudblood, Draco? Why? Answer me! Haven't you disgraced the family name enough?" Lucius screamed at the terrified boy with incomprehensible rage. "Dear Draco, torture her like this."

"No!" Draco cried out loud, but was helpless.

"_Crucio!"_ Lucius pointed his wand at the girl next to Draco. She sank to the floor with screams. Satisfied with his work, he let go and scowled at his son. "Your turn, Draco." Lucius smirked maliciously.

"Fuck you father. You're nothing but a pureblood homosexual bastard who – ah!" His father sent a barrage of minor torture curses his way.

"You'll never learn, Draco. Never! I'll leave you to your honorary sister. Cassandra, do as you please with these two." Before he left, he added, "You are no longer part of the family, Draco." Lucius quickly left the room. Draco instantly rushed over to Jessica's side.

"Dear brother, why don't you simply listen?" A pale-blonde girl, age ten, walked into view. "If you would just listen to father, our mother wouldn't have to suffer so much."

"You're a disgrace, Cassandra," Draco snarled. "Just like father."

The little girl cackled . "_Crucio!"_ Draco doubled over onto the floor and began to writhe. Several blisters formed on his arms and face. "Beg for mercy, Draco."

Harry sighed and shook his head. Not being able to control his alter ego, he burst through the glass window. He rolled onto the floor and tackled the ten-year-old girl onto the floor.

"Ah! Get off you Mudblood arse! Help!" Harry muffled her screams and took her wand. "Get off you –" Harry punched her in the stomach.

She staggered back and gaped for air. She finally collapsed against the wall and rolled over unconscious. That wasn't supposed to happen! Harry shrugged and rushed over to Draco and Jessica.

"Hey, are you guys alright?" Harry asked the two. Jessica looked up with trembling lips and backed away. "I swear, I'm here to help. Let's get out of here, now." Having no choice, Jessica nodded and got onto her feet.

"Wh-What about D-Draco?" Jessica shivered involuntarily. Harry sighed and shook his head.

"He'll be fine eventually."

"Are you sure?" She looked at him with pleading eyes.

"Yes. Okay, here's the plan." He looked her dead in the eyes and said, "Follow me." The blondie raised her brows in confusion but Harry simply motioned her towards the broken window.

He picked up the whining Draco and put him over his shoulder. He jumped out the window into the backyard. He looked over his shoulder to make sure that Jessica was following right behind and began to stalk across towards the exit.

He carefully led Jessica to the front gates, which only opened from the inside, and pushed them open. Putting a finger to his lips, Harry silently told her to go into the dark alleyway across the street. Complying, she ran to the other side of the street and entered the alley. Harry followed close behind.

Harry gently placed Draco down onto the asphalt ground in the dark alley as Jessica shivered and sat down beside him. Harry turned to Jessica and asked, "What is your relationship with Draco?" She furrowed her brows and bit her lip, whimpering.

"He-He's my best friend. H-his father . . . killed my parents a-and –" Jessica buried her head into Draco's chest and began to sob uncontrollably.

Harry sighed. "I meant, are you like his girlfriend or something?" At this, the girl looked up at him, anger clearly etched on her face.

"Why are you asking?" She screamed. "If this is your attempt to ask me to be your girlfriend or something, you're pathetic!" She glared at her savior and pulled Draco into her lap.

"No," Harry sighed again, "I just needed to perform a ritual of some sort. I was just wondering whether you would give up some of your life force to help revive Draco from his coma-like state. Don't worry, the life force required is insignificant and you will recover fairly quickly." He assured that the ritual would be safe.

"Of course I will!" Jessica looked at Harry like he was Voldemort on crack. "Anything to save my dragon!" Harry bit his tongue hard to prevent an outburst of laughter.

"Okay, whatever. Stand back . . . about a meter from Draco here."

The determined girl nodded and complied. Harry took out the same spare wand, which he had used to engrave Runes onto the sidewalk previously, and drew a circle around Draco's limp form on the asphalt ground. He walked over to Jessica and did the same, reassuring her it wouldn't hurt a bit. He then began to engrave four Per Ankh characters around Draco, one every ninety degrees of the circle, and drew a line connecting Jessica's circle to Draco's.

"Okay blondie –"

"Shut up, raven!" Harry rolled his eyes. She was way too moody.

"Sit down on the ground and stay still! Okay?" Jessica nodded, although she thought this whole ritual thing was weird. "_Vado!_" The Per Ankhs began to glow bright red. After a few minutes, Draco shot up from the ground panting.

"Oh my Merlin, oh Merlin." Draco looked around and noticed that Jessica was panting as well; he also noticed a guy his age holding a wicked green wand pointed right at him, or rather the circle he was inside of.

"Where am I?" He got up and walked over to Jessica, officially finishing the ritual. The circles, lines, and characters began to fade away. "What the hell happened, mate?" Draco turned to the stranger.

"I dunno really. I helped you get away from the creepy mansion." Draco's eyes went wide with joy. "And since you were out cold, sort of in a coma-induced state, I decided to give you a boost start, much like you do with Muggle cars when the battery dies out."

"Wait, is Jessie okay?" Draco hugged the girl tightly and sighed with relief. Harry confirmed that she was fine. "Wait . . . you said the two of us?"

Harry frowned, "Well, yeah. I have to rescue someone else too so –"

"You only rescued the two of us!" Draco began to panic. "What about my mother!" He started towards the manor when he toppled backwards.

"Calm down, you're still really weak."

"But my mother's probably going to be tortured to death. It'll be my bloody fault!" Draco rolled onto his back and stared at the zenith. "Hey . . . could you . . . do you mind," Draco raised his head and gulped, "you know… my mother?"

Harry groaned and smacked his head with the palm of his right hand. "Why does this always happen to me?"

Draco gulped. "Please, mate. Sh-she's all I've got left in this world."

_Looks like I was_ _born a savior. And my plans for Lucius have to wait then_. "Fine. I was going to go back in there anyways."

"Oh, thank you thank you thank you than –"

Harry put up his hand, signaling for the boy to shut the hell up, "But do you promise to stay here until I get back, no matter what? And if I don't come back within two hours or so, you're screwed, okay?"

Draco nodded and watched the stranger with awe. The stranger drew a light brown wand and began to draw a jagged, squiggly line at the boundaries of the alleyway. "These are Notice-Me-Not-So-Much Wards. My creation; they will repel all wizards and Muggles for up to three hours, except for the one who put them up: me. Whatever you do, don't leave. Now, just wish me luck."

"Wait, what's your name?" Draco smiled genuinely at the stranger.

"Harry, just Harry for now." He shrugged expressionlessly back at Draco and added, "But you can call me Billy Bob the Stranger." And with that, Harry Potter left the safe vicinity of the alley and decided to infiltrate the manor once again, but with different intentions in mind. _Good thing I forgot to close the front gate_.

Upon reaching the grounds once more, he decided to pay dear Cassandra a visit. Jumping into the same room, he frantically searched for signs of Cassandra. He was relieved to see that she was still unconscious. _She must either be really weak or really tired_, Harry mused as he tiptoed to the door where Lucius had left from.

He carefully plied the door open and began to roam down the long hallway decorated solely with pictures of Lucius Malfoy and Antonius Rookwood. "Wow, he must be really homosexual." His suspicions were confirmed as he neared a bedroom. From inside, he heard males grunting in pleasure.

"Oh Rookie, oh yeah, that's right . . . please oomph me hard!"

"Oh Lucius, my dear, with pleasure!"

Harry shook his head to clear away the disturbing images of all of the possible homosexual positions the two men might be in from his mind. He continued down the hall. Finally, he reached a locked room. Bingo!

He carefully began to engrave the Greek rune, Delta (Δ), onto the metal door. Apparently, it was locked by means both Magical and Muggle. After three consecutive engravings of the symbol, he whispered the incantation, "V_ado_." The metallic door rumbled off from the hinges and clattered to the ground.

He cautiously entered the room, afraid that this might be an ambush of some sort. He was relieved when he came across the shocked faces of a battered-up Narcissa Malfoy, a bound up honey-blond-haired teen, and a really hot redhead, also around twelve years of age. The three females instinctively backed away.

"Hello," Harry greeted with a forced smile. In reality, he would rather be at home, relaxing in his Jacuzzi. But he had obligations.

"Who the hell are you," the redhead snarled, her body shaking from fear of being raped.

"Stay back, boy!" Narcissa gulped and defensively held out her two hands over the other two witches. "Please, have mercy on them!" She begged, tears flowing down her pale cheeks.

"Wow," muttered Harry as he made his way towards the terrified witches. "My name is Harry and I'm here to help you get out of here, on Draco's pleas of course." Narcissa furrowed her brows, in a disbelieving way.

"You-you're lying! Stay back . . . please!" Narcissa mourned for the two youngsters.

"Damn it. Look, I'm here to help. I promise not to physically harm you in any way," Harry stated calmly. "Trust me," he smiled genuinely. Unfortunately, the women got the wrong impression.

The redhead, whose ample chest was slightly visible, made her way towards Harry and smacked him hard across the face, effectively knocking him down onto the cracked marble floor. His head hit the floor, since he was unprepared for such an attack.

His partially-functional alter ego was actually hoping that she would give him a hug and then snog him senseless (his alter ego was disarranged – who likes girls anyways?) for being her savior or something like that. But then again, life is cruel.

Harry felt hot liquid start to gush out from the back of his head. "How dare you! I know who you are! You're here to have fun with us, aren't you . . . you–" She was cut off by the high-pitched screams of Cassandra.

_Fuck. I should have silenced her and stunned her while I had the chance_. The redhead quickly snatched Harry's wand and backed away. Harry groaned and staggered as he got onto his feet.

"Don't you dare move arsehole! I have a wand and am not afraid to use it against you if I have to."

Harry looked at her, shaking his head slightly. "I was trying to fucking save your damn life and virginity! Ugh! Why does everything have to be so complicated?" He involuntarily began to apply pressure to the open wound on the back of his head.

"My arse, you were. Now get out of here and tell your boss to go suck a dick." Harry snorted at her use of vulgar language. "Is something funny?" She threatened, raising her wand to his forehead.

Suddenly, his instincts started to flare up. Something told him that he was in grave danger. His eyes went wide and began to glow; his body began shaking slightly; and his hair started to turn blonde. The redhead screamed and dropped the wand at once. She rushed to take cover behind Narcissa, who held out her hands in a defensive stance once more.

"Freeze!" Harry groaned. It was Lucius . . . _damn it!_ Harry closed his eyes and prayed for a miracle.

"Well, well, well. And who might you be, little boy?" The three witches gasped. Apparently, he had been telling the truth all along. Blaise – the redhead – whimpered, cursing herself for damaging her only chance of escaping this prison.

Harry sank to the floor, not turning his head towards the man. Lucius smirked and unleashed a volley of spells in his direction. Harry cried out in agony as they impacted his back. Katherine – the girl with honey blonde hair – and Blaise watched him with sympathetic and worry-etched faces.

Lucius muttered, "_Crucio_," and upheld the spell for quite a while . . . perhaps two minutes? Well, Harry didn't clearly remember what happened next because after that, he lost it. Dragonboy lost control.

All of a sudden, the Cruciatus curse simply shimmered out of existence. Everyone held their breaths as Harry slowly got up from the ground and casually dusted his clothes, feigning hurt. "I can't believe you would do such a thing, Lucius!" The boy turned around.

The man in question screamed out of terror. Lucius tried to run but was forced immobile under the boy's vibrant green eyes. His eyes cycled through a wide range of different colors every few seconds. Lucius gulped as he recognized the boy.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" Lucius stammered.

"Don't you ever stop?" Harry raised his eyebrows.

"What are you here for? I swear . . . I'll gladly hand over whatever you want! Please have mercy on me!" Lucius actually got onto his knees, shocking the three hostages. Princess Cassandra, the Spoiled One, actually began to examine the stranger.

Harry felt his magical core getting drained quite rapidly. It was only a matter of time before he would tire of fatigue and pass out, leaving five innocents – considering the worst case scenario of Draco and Jessica getting caught – to the hands of Lucius Malfoy. Harry didn't respond. Rather, he silently walked over to the three females. The three instinctively backed away.

"Can you stop bitching around and just grab my hand?" He snarled. Narcissa was the first to recover, and grabbed his hand fiercely, hoping he had a plan. The other two did the same. Harry turned around to face Lucius and saluted him, "Shall we meet again, gay sire." And with that, the four materialized away, defying multiple laws of physics and magic. Only Lucius was there to notice the lightning bolt that followed their departure. It was Dragonboy's signature move: _Aurous stannic,_the Lightning Bolt.

The four landed right in front of Jessica and Draco. The two teenagers jumped back in surprise.

"Mum! Are you alright?" Draco rushed over to his mother and gave her a hug. Blaise and Katherine gulped. This had been a legit rescue mission.

Harry gasped for breath and started to pant. Causing. Draco frowned and pointed to his hair, "Since when did you have blonde hair, Billy?"

Harry shook his head. "Quick, grab my arms. We need to get out of here, now!" Nobody objected and gathered around him, forming a semicircle. Without further ado, the boy materialized the six of them right into the Bell family house backyard. Harry officially collapsed onto the green grass, coughing because of extreme magical fatigue.

Narcissa rushed over and tried to help him but to no avail. Coughing up black and golden fluid, he passed out. He was clearly unable to see the panic-stricken faces of two hot witches, one cute Muggle (who was unfortunately taken by Draco), one loyal wizard, and one determined adult witch (who was too old for Harry's likes).


	8. The Other Side of the Platform

_Disclaimer_: See Chapter 1. Chapter 8 updated 3-27-11

* * *

The Other Side of the Platform

Smith Bell and Amanda Bell rushed out into their backyard. They had heard a crack of lightning. And there was evidently no storm in the horizon.

The couple stepped onto the fuzzy, green grass, hand in hand. They were shocked to find a group of people huddled around an unconscious boy. And amongst them was their daughter.

"Katie!" Amanda Bell sprinted towards her daughter. The teen girl was bruised up a bit, on the arms and legs. "How did you get here?"

The young teen pointed towards the boy and said, "Him," refusing to elaborate. Amanda frowned and looked up at her husband for an explanation.

Smith opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, unable to form a coherent thought. Finally he said, "It's him." The woman deepened her frown. "Dragonboy." He said in a hushed tone.

Amanda did a double-take at the limp body. The boy had blonde hair, with flecks of raven black here and there, thin red lips, and a thin and small, rounded nose. Just like the photos in the _Daily Prophet_. "But why did he save our daughter?"

Smith opened his mouth but no words came out. He gulped and bit his tongue. "He had connections, remember?"

"What are you talking about, Smith?" Amanda let out a panicked hand motion in exasperation. "Can someone tell me what is going on?"

"Lord Peverell said he had connections."

"What are you . . .? Oh." Amanda dropped her gaze towards the huddled group of individuals.

Two nervous-looking Malfoys, neglected from their family for sure; a Blaise, by the looks of her aristocratic, slender face; a Muggle girl, obviously frightened about the thought of being transported through thin air; and the one and only Dragonboy, in extreme condition.

"Mum," Kate spoke up, shaking the woman out of her thoughts. The adults peered at the girl as she went over towards the limp body. "I think we should all go inside. He needs medical attention. Now." Her voice demanded authority. Her hands trembled and her eyes blazed with pain, guilt, and determination.

Smith cautiously poked his eyes around at the people around him. He gulped. "Are you sure, Katie? I mean . . . we don't even know anybody here." He gestured towards the Malfoys, Blaise, and the Muggle. "Are they safe?" He whispered.

"Yes, daddy." She rolled her eyes. "Let's go."

Smith warily nodded and went over to the boy, staying as far away as possible from the others. He bent down and draped the limp and unconscious boy onto his shoulders. The young man was surprisingly light for his age. Lean and fit, yet dangerously powerful: that's what the boy was. Amanda quickly gestured the rest into the house. It would be a long day. And perhaps, a long week as well.

OoOoO

Harry opened his eyes. His vision was extremely blurry. He fluttered his eyelashes several times, his sensitive ears picking up snippets of the conversation around him. There was a bright light directly above, making him incapable of seeing what was going on.

"Katie, you don't have to stay with the boy." A woman's voice bounced from his left ear to his right. The woman sounded worried.

"It's okay mum." A beautiful voice reverberated inside his head. The voice was tender and sweet, affectionate and loving. And then, someone ran soft fingers through his hair. "I want to stay."

Harry heard a door creak eerily. The creaking stopped and after a minute's pause, the door softly closed shut. Harry blinked his eyes. He couldn't see what was going on. He felt helpless and vulnerable, for once in his life. And who were these people? He couldn't think straight.

Harry eventually gave up. Obviously, he couldn't move any part of his body. His entire body seemed paralyzed and numb.

He internally sighed. He was about to close his eyes and drift back to sleep – _if_ that was possible – when he felt someone wrap arms protectively around his waist. He began to panic again and struggled to move his hands to bat the arms away. But to no avail.

The person eventually snuggled into his side, softly breathing against Harry's neck. The breath tickled as it hovered over his delicate skin. Silence. Peace. Harmony.

Harry Potter frowned. Feeling light-headed, he passed out, again.

OoOoO

Harry groaned as water touched his dry lips. He fluttered his eyebrows. He bolted upright.

"You're awake," a melodious voiced yawned. Someone sat up beside him. Harry frowned and turned to his left. A teenage girl, with honey-blonde hair, gray-blue eyes, and tanned skin sat cross-legged before him. Literally, ten inches away. Too close for his own comfort.

Harry rubbed his eyes and stretched out his arms, yawning along the way. "Who are you, again?" Harry frowned.

The girl smiled shyly. "Katie Bell." She bit her lips and blushed wildly under his piercing gaze.

Harry frowned. "Um . . . what are you doing in my bed . . . in my room?" Harry had a bad feeling about this. He also rather queasy at the moment.

The girl frowned. "You're in the Bell manor."

Suddenly, everything came crashing down, reawakening Harry's snitch-sized memory. He had been knocked unconscious! And now, he was probably under the care of the Bell family. He remembered helping rescue five others, one being Katherine Bell, from Lucius Malfoy.

"What about the others?" Harry's head perked up and examined the room around him, taking in his surroundings.

It was a plain and rather small room. There was a small circular window at the far end of the room with the door located right next to the window. The bed that was currently occupied was stretched out against the side opposite the window. There was a closet to his left and a small bathroom to his right. The white ceiling, he noticed, was fairly high. There was a ceiling fan with two lights attached to the bottom of it. It was plain and neat, just like the rest of the house.

"They're in the guest rooms." Katie fidgeted with her fingers.

Harry nodded and got out from under the sheets. He was still dressed in complete dragonhide battle attire, vest, gloves, knee-socks and all. He carefully stripped off the vest, ignorant to the curious stare he got from his female friend. Harry folded up the vest and pocketed it.

"I have to go." Harry grumbled as he examined his arms closely. He still hadn't figured out how to control his alter ego completely and was unable to control transformations. There were still signs of red, black, and golden scales. Anytime soon, they could fade away and reveal the disguised Harry Potter. He searched around the room for his guitar. And his wands.

"They're over there in the corner." Kate whispered, as if reading his thoughts. "I took your stuff and put it over there." She pointed to the farthest corner in the room, near the window. "I thought you'd be more comfortable." She bit the insides of her cheek.

Harry nodded and limped over. Katie quickly went over to help him, but he held out his hand. "I'm alright." He kneeled down on the hardwood floor and began to pocket his arsenal of weapons, wands and quills, and strapped the guitar onto his back. He strummed it to see if it was still functional. He was delighted to see that it was still in perfect condition.

"Do you play the guitar?" Katie asked curiously. The guitar sounded amazing, causing euphoric sound waves to embrace her ear drums.

"Yeah," Harry absentmindedly nodded. He went over to the window and looked outside. It was nighttime. The moonlight shimmered across his firm face. He sat down on the windowsill and continued looking outside. He watched dark clouds roll across the horizon. He looked back at the girl and sighed.

OoOoO

**Flash!**

"It's not about romance, Harry. You just have to kiss the girl because you need to. Otherwise, Dumbledore will be able to see right through you and force you under his clutches. Just a quick peck on the cheek or something. But your mouth and her skin need to touch in order for it to work. And, it's for your own good."

OoOoO

He had to kiss her somehow. Or get her to kiss him. That had been the whole mission. Kiss the girl; get the hell out. The end. But _no_! She just _had_ to be a prisoner in some weird manor along with other people. _I'm the luckiest bloke in the world_, Harry thought sardonically and rolled his eyes.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright?" Katie made her way and sat next to Harry, placing her hand on his lap. He didn't object her touch this time. Harry reluctantly got up.

He took out a spare parchment of paper from his back pocket and took out his handy, magical blue 'Never-runs-out-of-ink' quill. He went over towards the nightstand and began to scratch furiously at the piece of paper.

Katie frowned. The boy was odd. And unique, in a good way of course. After a while, he stopped and walked over towards the girl.

"Can you give this to your parents?" Harry asked.

Katie nodded. "Yeah, what is it?" She was about to read it when Harry promptly sat down on the floor, crossed his legs, and began to engrave inscriptions onto the hardwood tiles. "What are you doing?" She kneeled down next to the boy, curious.

Curiosity entranced the dragon, Merlin had once said.

"You guys need better wards. No offense." He perked his head up and smiled. "I'm just putting better wards around your place. For safety." Harry clarified and went back to work.

For the next hour or so, Harry sat there and carved out a masterpiece onto the solid floor, consisting of Greek, Egyptian, and ambient Runes. Harry wiped off the sweat from his forehead and got off from the floor, ignoring the queer look the blonde girl was giving him.

He observed his artwork: there was a circle engraved within an isosceles triangle, engraved within a pentagon. Each side of the pentagon was a good twelve inches long and the ambient Runes were scattered within the circle. Nodding his head with obvious acceptance, he raised his wand and screamed, "_Vado Exodus._"

A thick golden beam of light exited his wand and hit the complex runework, bringing it to life. The circle began to move in a clockwise direction, the triangle began to glow different colors of the visible spectrum, and the pentagon began to hum with energy.

Katherine Bell stumbled backwards as the energy flowed throughout the house. The girl stood up, rubbed her bum, and gaped at the young, powerful wizard.

"Finished," Harry smiled. "Just ignore the runework. It's always going to be humming; that's a good thing because it shows that the wards are up and running. If someone tries to cross the house with ill-intentions in mind anywhere from fifty to seventy-five feet, they'll be forced to apparate away. There are three layers of wards set up…" And so, Harry explained how the wards he'd set up would work.

"And that's that." Harry whistled and pocketed his utensils. He stood up and sighed, shaking out his arms. "Just remember to tell your parents about the new wards I set up, on behalf of Lord Peverell of course." He licked his lips and gave her a rare, cheeky grin.

Katie Bell smiled. She had never met a person quite like him before. Males were always after her for her good looks, essentially just to use her.

She turned towards Harry and brushed her left hand against his arm. "Thank you." She inched closer to the boy. Harry shakily smiled back, noticing the passion and affection within the girl's striking eyes. Hopefully, she'd give him a quick peck on the cheek and bingo! "Thank you for everything." She stepped closer, filling in the remaining gap between them, and placed her right hand on his waist.

"Uh-uh w-wha–" Harry stuttered as she gently pressed her gentle lips against his. Completely dazzled by the unknown phenomenon and not expecting the girl to make his mind turn into incomprehensible mush, Harry stood there in shock and allowed the girl to withhold the kiss for a few seconds before withdrawing.

Lust imprisoned the strongest of mages, Morgan Le Fey countered back.

Katie looked back at Harry's gaping face. She frowned and bit her lip. "Are you alright? I didn't mean to –"

Harry closed his mouth and looked directly into her eyes. Katie felt a shiver run down her spine as she bore her eyes into his. His eyes flashed yellow and he gave her a crooked grin, his mind disheveled. "Sorry for being an idiot," he smiled. "I'm new to this kind of stuff, you know?" He shrugged noncommittally. The girl looked away shyly. "See you around, Katie." For once, he grinned happily, for some odd reason.

His godfather had been right. This was for his own good after all.

Katherine Bell watched as her savior inhaled deeply and plucked up the courage and gave her a small peck on the cheek. She slowly moved her hand to the spot where he had kissed her and smiled.

But love and knowledge set them all free, added Lord Pendragon.

The boy quietly slid down the staircase and sprinted through the hallway and out the door. She rushed after him, still in her nightgown, and watched him pause right outside the house. He bent down and engraved something on the front lawn, before pointing his wand into the air and screaming, "_Aurous stannic_!" With a flash of lightening, he was gone. Katie closed the front door behind her and looked at the letter in her hand.

_Dear Bell Family,_

_I really appreciate the hospitality you have shown me here. I especially would like to thank your daughter for tenderly caring for me (Katie blushed wildly but continued reading). I have one request. Please watch over the two Malfoys. They need temporary safety and would like to ask you to care for them. And make sure the Blaise girl gets to her house safely. And don't thank me, thank Lord Peverell._

_With knowledge comes great responsibility,_

- Җ -

_Raiden_

Katie clutched the letter tightly in her grasp, against her chest. She looked back outside, her eyes wandering at the spot where her savior had materialized away. She sighed, her heart clenching at the very thought of Raiden.

Katie Bell had fallen for Dragonboy. Hard. She wouldn't be the last one to do so, either.

OoOoO

Harry clutched the important letter that Sirius had told him to read ages ago. He stuffed it into his side pocket to read for later. He didn't want to miss the train, after all. It was his first time going to Hogwarts and he didn't know the train schedule too well. All he knew was that the Hogwarts Express left somewhere around eleven in the morning.

Harry gathered his belongings and the black magical trunk that Sirius had left in Harry's possession. It contained the entire course work for second-years. It was as if Sirius had been prepared to die even before Harry went to school. As if he had been expecting some sort of catastrophe.

Harry shrugged. That was a matter for another time. "Kreacher!" Harry spoke clearly.

An audible pop later, "Yes sir? Master Harry be calling for Kreacher, sir?"

"Um, yeah. Do you know where King's Cross station is?"

"I knows sir." The house elf nodded and looked up at Harry, expecting some sort of command.

"Can you somehow get me there? Better yet, can you transport me to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters? And bring my stuff too, yeah?"

Kreacher nodded solemnly. "I be doing that right away, sir!" Kreacher snapped his finger. There was an audible pop and Harry found himself right in front of a bright, scarlet red train engine. On the side, it read: Hogwarts Express.

Harry turned to Kreacher and smiled. "Thank you for your honorary deed, Kreacher. You're the greatest house elf ever!" Harry grinned as the house elf in question blushed and looked at the ground.

"Master is being too kind, sir. I is being my job."

"See you soon, Kreacher. And take care of the house, will you?"

"I is being doing what Master is being saying." Kreacher took a bow and popped away.

Harry shrugged and smiled to himself. He just loved embarrassing the little bugger. He tugged his fairly light trunk to where a man was taking everyone's luggage. The man asked for his ticket. Harry frowned but remembered that his godfather had given had given him a funny-looking piece of paper a few days before his death. Guessing that it was his boarding pass, he took it out and gave it to the man, who nodded and let him enter the train.

Not wanting to be disturbed, Harry decided to go to the back of the train.

Harry whistled as he walked down the aisle in the middle of the train. He looked into several compartments and saw that most were empty. There wasn't much a surprise there. Apparently, Harry was half-an-hour early. The train would be leaving at eleven o' clock sharp. He continued walking and soon found himself outside the last compartment of the train.

Harry reached out and slid open the glass compartment door. He promptly plopped down on the comfy-looking suede cushioned seats. He smiled and flattened himself, backside-up, taking up the entire side of the compartment. He set his guitar next to the large Plexiglas window. He took out the crumpled up note from Sirius.

_Dear Harry,_

_Life must be really cruel for you, but I know you real well Lightning Boy. You can do this; stay strong. If you're reading this, I must have passed on. I'm on the next great adventure, as Professor Dumbledore always called it. And Harry, don't hold anything against Dumbledore. I know from past experience that he is not evil, nor does he ever wish harm towards others, and believe me! If he does ever get on your bad side, think rationally! He is supposed to be the Leader of the Light! He was forced to investigate and protect the Wizarding World from evil. Don't blame him for the Dursleys, although I admit, his Greater Good shite is a bit stupid and a tad too Gryffindor logic-wise, which says something coming from me!_

_I'm not saying to follow his every move. No! Don't trust him completely and don't follow him blindly. I used to do that, but after Lily and James died, I started questioning him. Lately, he's been different. In fact, he's been different ever since the meeting he had with Mr. Riddle in 1981, the same year your parents were killed. I don't think he's the same as before. Keep an eye out for him._

_Anyways, just know that he will do whatever he believes to be for the best of people. He is a good person at heart and definitely someone you should confide in, now that I'm gone. Sorry for not being able to be there for you for the next years of your life. Hell, I've been a terrible godfather, just forgive me for anything that I've done wrong. I have just have one wish, just one!_

_Go to Hogwarts, for my sake! For your parents' sake! Go make some friends! Get a social life! And don't you dare mourn over me, you hear? Now go shag 'em bitches like there's no tomorrow and . . . wait a second . . . on second thought, don't listen to what I just said. What I meant to say was _go find yourself a girlfriend to lurve!_ And if you can get more than one, cheers pupsicle! Do the impossible Mr. Potter-Black! And continue your education Harry, please? I hope my message got to your damn heart! Too bad I couldn't shag . . . never mind. Wait, I didn't die from a heart attack because two beautiful lesbian ladies agreed to sleep with me, did I? I guess that's not likely._

_Oh well. Oh yeah! I almost forgot something, pup. Something minor, really. You, as Harry Potter, are betrothed to the Greengrass sisters. I guess I forgot to mention that small little detail. Have fun! If you know what I mean! Hint hint, wink wink, shag shag!_

_P.S. If anything goes wrong at Hogwarts, speak with Headmaster Flamel immediately! Don't hold anything back. I've already contacted him and he's given me an oath to watch over you carefully._

_Once a Marauder, always a Marauder,_

_Padfoot, the Lady-Magnet_

Harry blinked a couple of times before wiping his eyes and rereading the last part of the letter. He gaped. Did Sirius say that he was betrothed to the Greengrass _sisters_? As in more than one girl! Harry slammed his head against the window.

"Fuck," he slammed his head against the glass window again. "My," Again. "Damn," He rubbed his head but continued hitting his head against the window, "Love Life!" One final slam later, he shredded the letter into pieces and began to hyperventilate. Katie had been more than enough for him!

"Um, are you alright?" A voice brought Harry out of his dreadful love affairs. Harry looked up and noticed that a girl was standing in the doorway. Evidently, she had seen him slam his head against the window a couple of times, repeatedly. "Do you need help?" She frowned. The girl sat down across from him and laid her handbag next to her.

"Oh . . . ah . . . y-yeah. J-just practicing f-for –" Harry scratched his head and gave the girl an unsure look. "You know, the Muggle sport, soccer?" The girl shook her head, obviously confused. "Yeah, I was just testing out how well my head would be able to . . . to . . . um. Ah, fuck it."

"What?" The girl raised her eyebrow.

"Never mind. I was just pissed at what someone wrote. Nothing to worry about, really."

The girl with blonde hair raised her eyebrows again. "So, I won't catch you doing that again. And I won't catch you trying to jump off the Astronomy Tower at night?"

Harry let out a small chuckle. "Nah, I'm not that kind of guy."

The girl smiled, her lips intoxicating to Harry's recently purged pleasures. He licked his lips and ran a hand through his hair, a gesture which the girl liked. "What's your name? I haven't seen you in the Great Hall before. Are you a first-year? You don't look it."

Harry nodded. "Yep. I'm a second-year transfer from . . . I was home-schooled and gave my end-of-the-year exams to the Ministry last year. Straight O's on everything except History of Magic." Harry gave the girl a crooked grin.

"Straight O's? And home-schooled?" The girl gaped. "What place are you in on the school board?"

"Fifth." Harry gave her a thumbs-up. "But don't worry, I'll be first in no time." He wagged his left brow, emphasizing the word, 'first'. Why did he feel so lighthearted with this girl? Who was she?

"You're in the top five?" The girl gasped. "W-what did you say your name was again?"

"I didn't." Harry bobbed his head backwards and rested it on the plushy backrest. "But for the record, I'm Harry Peverell Black. Nice to meet you, miss?" Harry held out his hand like a normal gent.

The girl in question blushed. "Daphne Greengrass," and shook his hand gently, her soft skin causing tingles to run across the surface if his palm. "Ni-nice to meet you, Lord Peverell Black." She bowed her head, finally realizing that she was sitting the same room as one of the most royal people in Great Britain.

Harry's smile cracked. _Greengrass . . . ?_ Harry did a double-take at the girl._Fuck. Why did he have to run into her of all people!_

"No need to . . . call me that. Just Harry will be fine." He said shakily. He looked into the girl's sea-green eyes. They were serene and seemed to calm down his hyperactive self.

Just then, the door slid open and two more girls entered the compartment. One was a familiar redhead and the other looked to be the smaller version of Daphne Greengrass with hazel-blonde hair and hypnotizing azure eyes. The redhead was happily suckling on some sweets. Astoria had chocolate frogs in hand.

"There you are." Blaise exclaimed. "I've been looking all over for you on the platform. Astoria just told me that you boarded the train without me." She pouted and pounced on her best friend, who cackled with mischief. "Did ya miss me, Daphie?"

"Don't call me that!" Daphne sneered playfully. "And we have someone else in the area, so be polite."

Astoria Greengrass and Blaise Zabini both turned their attentions to Harry Potter, who shrank back into one corner of the compartment.

"Um," he gulped, "hi." He gave them a strained smile, "My name is Harry."

"Nice to meet you," Blaise mumbled and rolled her eyes. "Like I care. So anyways Daph, you wouldn't believe what happened this summer."

"What, Blaise? And you should try being polite. His name is Harry B–"

"I was rescued by Raiden!"

"What!" Daphne and Astoria exclaimed at the same time. Harry visibly flinched.

"I know. And guess what?"

"Go on," Daphne said, obviously excited.

"I found out that he placed us all under his protection!"

"What do you mean, us?" Astoria piped up, taking the seat right next to Harry while keenly listening to Blaise tell her side of the story. Harry involuntarily sniffed in the sweet scent of the girl next to him. And his eyes _accidentally_wandered over her perfectly-crafted, out-of-a-beautiful-portrait face. _Damn_.

"Well, it was me, Katie Bell, Draco Malfoy and his mother, and a Muggle."

"Draco Malfoy? He was rescued?" Astoria frowned. Her bubbly demeanor visibly changed to that of contempt. "That bitch?" Harry coughed out loud, but nobody took notice. It was as if he wasn't even there.

"Yeah. Apparently before he left, he engraved this weird symbol onto the Bell front yard that the Ministry officials suspect is his symbol, like an X or something. And it's a warning to the Death Wizards! It means that the next time anyone tries to mess with us, Raiden is going to kill them without second thought. My personal knight in shining armor!"

Harry cringed at being called a savior. He had had enough action for the entire year. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He had practiced meditating before. Harry needed to calm down. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Rinse and repeat.

"Wow, that's nice. Well, Daphne has been drooling over Dragonboy too. All summer long! I mean, he's just a bloke. I think I even heard her moan his name last night." Astoria butted in and gave Daphne an innocent smile, who glared back, her face beet-red.

"Yeah. But anyways, guess what else I found out?" The other two girls urged her on. "Raiden has connections with Lord Peverell Black!" Daphne gasped and turned around to face Harry, who had finally reached the point where he was unable to stay in the same room as the girls.

"Excuse me," he cleared his all-of-a-sudden raspy throat.

Getting up abruptly and startling the others, he grabbed his guitar and pushed his way out the compartment. He walked a few steps across the aisle. He found another fairly-empty compartment and decided to sit there.

"What's the matter with him?" Blaise muttered.

Daphne continued gaping, her mouth forming an 'O'. "He's Lord Peverell Black."

Blaise, who had been chewing on Berty's Every-Flavored Beans, choked and stared at Daphne. "Are you serious?" Blaise cursed under her breath, causing the other two to giggle. "It's not funny! I just got on the bad side of like the second-most influential bloke in the world!"

Astoria rolled her eyes. "Not to mention possibly one of the hottest blokes in Hogwarts, probably next to that dreamy seventh-year Ravenclaw. This new boy is dashing!"

Daphne gaped at her sister. Her gape turned into a glare. "You'd better not, sis. He's all mine."

Astoria giggled. "Not if I snag him first."

OoOoO

Harry entered the compartment and looked around to face the only occupant. The boy's head was turned the other way. The occupant was staring out the window, directly at a blank brick wall.

"Um, can I sit here?" Harry spoke up, unsure whether the person was asleep or just plain bored.

The boy turned his head around and looked up at Harry. Harry gasped. It was Draco No-Name. Or at least he looked a lot like Draco.

"No, no. Please sit down." He seemed a bit surprised by Harry's arrival. "I wasn't expecting company." He shrugged and went back to staring back out the train window.

Harry gulped and placed his guitar on the soft seat. "Um, it's nice to meet you. What's your name?"

Draco looked back and frowned. "My name is . . . Draco."

"Nice to see you again Drake." Harry grinned.

Draco looked back at Harry. "I don't remember meeting you before."

Harry grinned and pouted. "Don't tell me you forgot about your old mate, Billy Bob the Stranger, already." He dramatically clutched his heart and fell onto his knees. He raised his hand into the air and sniffed, "Hast thouest forgotten me already? Nay! Nay, I plead." He got up, took a bow, and sat back down with a wide smile on his face.

Draco's eyes widened with shock as he did a double-take and examined Harry's hair closely. "Billy . . . wait, Raiden?" Draco gasped as his eyes widened with shock and for some reason, relief. Harry nodded his head but put his forefinger to his pursed lips.

"Yeah, but you better not tell anyone. Or you'll be dead before the end of the month, metaphorically speaking of course."

"What are you doing here?" Draco sat up a bit straighter. "You still go to school?"

"Well, yeah. I'm surprisingly human, you know. Twelve-year old hormonal boy, just like you."

"Wow, just wow. What's your real name?" Draco whispered. "It's not really Billy Bob, is it? Because I don't like Bob the Builder that much. Hammers are scary."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Is that your attempt at a lame joke?" Draco frowned and shook his head. Harry continued, "Harry Peverell Black."

"Holy shite!" Draco exclaimed. "You're Lord Peverell Black. Damn. Any more surprises?"

_Tons of surprises_, Harry internally mused. "Yeah, but I can't reveal them all at once can I? We'd have to be friends and be able to comfortably share private things with one another. Say, wanna be friends. I'm new at this kind of stuff." Harry held out his hand, amusement clearly etched on his mischievous, Marauder-infected visage.

"Oh, friends. Sure." Draco gulped and cautiously took his hand. "You sure you . . . want to be my friend? Not many people like me." He mumbled and trailed off.

Harry frowned. "Well, I'd better start out somewhere, you know. So, where are all you pals?"

"Pals?" Draco gulped and bit his lower lip. "I don't have friends." And with that, he went back to staring out the window. All of a sudden, the train engine rumbled and the bell chimed. It was eleven o'clock.

Harry looked at Draco strangely. "No friends? Say, by the looks of it, you should be the most eligible bachelor in school or something. How can you have no friends at all?"

The train started moving, the beautiful countryside coming into view. The day wasn't a great one. There was an evident storm brewing in the horizon. The sun was comfortably nested behind puffy gray clouds. Thunder loomed in the background.

"A story for another time," Draco muttered.

Harry frowned. "There must be a reason why people hate you so much. Isn't there?"

Draco gave an uneasy laugh, "Yeah." He traced his index finger along the glass window and smudged his nose against it. He watched the plains roll along with the background. Draco looked back at Harry, ambivalent as to whether it was wise to tell the truth or stick with half-concealing verities. "I'm a traitor to my family, who are apparently pureblood fanatics."

Harry frowned. "And that's why the entire school hates you?"

Draco bit the inside of his cheek for a good fifty-five seconds. "I used to follow my father blindly in the beginning of my first year. Used to call muggle-borns and half-breeds bad names."

Harry gaped. At first he felt enraged. But then, he decided there must have been more to his situation. After all, Draco had a Muggle girlfriend. How the hell could he be prejudice?

"But then, something happened when I went home for Christmas break. And my dad kicked me out of the Malfoy family. And from that day on, I decided to change, and tried to reform. Tried to make amends with the half-bloods and muggle-borns. But it was too late. They weren't willing to listen to any of my apologies. And it turned out, the pureblood bigots turned on me for trying to befriend them. So basically, I've been shunned. My only escape to freedom is the Muggle World and holiday breaks."

Harry saw pain in Draco's eyes. "Draco, it's okay."

Draco broke down, tears rushed out of his pleading eyes. "You don't understand what it's like to be shunned from friends that were once loyal to you. You don't know what's it like to be derided twenty-four seven by all your peers. You don't know how it feels like to lose the only family you ever had and trusted completely. You don't know what it's like to have nobody to confide in, not even the adults! Only Headmaster Flamel seemed to even sympathize for me!"

Harry placed a comforting hand on Draco and pulled him into a brotherly hug. "It's okay, Drake. I'll always be there. I'll be your friend. I'll never abandon you. Ever."

Draco sniffed. "I never truly had friends. Turns out, Parkinson Slut-Face, Nott, and Crabbe and Goyle were just getting a way to ally themselves with the scion of the Malfoy family."

Harry grimly smiled. "I promise to always be there for you. No matter what. Like brothers. What do you say?"

Draco looked up at Harry and tried to pry out any deceit. Finding none, Draco grimly nodded and smiled genuinely, his front teeth displaying raw sentiment. "Are you serious? You realize that by befriending me, you're losing all other friends automatically?"

Harry shrugged. "Who cares about the number of friends? It's about how good your friends are. If I had three best friends, and you had fifteen iffy friends, who do you think would have a better chance of getting the support they need when faced with troubled times? Me."

Draco sighed. "Thanks for the advice. But just so you know, I attract a lot of girls. So don't get scared when you see a bunch of stalkers on our tail." Draco clicked his tongue and leaned back.

Harry burst out laughing. "You and girls? I wonder what Jessica would say if she found you with –"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence!" Drake narrowed his eyes, banteringly.

Harry chuckled. "Say, you look like you're in good shape of joining the Marauders, Second Era of Doom."

"What? Who are they?"

"A group of pranksters. The Marauders were a group of pranksters, the best ones from Hogwarts, who annoyed the fizzshakes out of all the professors. And two of them are related to me. So, the severe Marauder pranking begins again this year. I shall bring change and reform to Hogwarts!" Harry puffed out his chest and slammed a clenched fist against it, only to wince in pain.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Are you sure?" Harry frowned. "I don't want to face the wrath of the Weasley twins. They know the castle inside-out."

Harry grinned. "There's a reason why people call me Raiden."

Draco gulped. "And why is that?"

"Because I'm as quick as lightning and ten times faster than thunder. They won't even know what hit them. You can join in the prank wars too. A bit of revenge, my friend."

Draco's eyes danced with glee. "Re-revenge? And nobody will . . . get hurt, right?"

"Only pranks for fun," Harry added.

"Mister Raiden, count me in!"

Harry scratched his chin. "Nah, we'll need better alias names."

Draco gulped. "Alias names? What for?"

Harry smiled. "Because we don't want people knowing exactly who we are. The mystery will keep things hyped. The original Marauders had secret names too. I'll be Dragon."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Real original, Harry."

Harry scowled. "Oh yeah? Got a better name? What's your secret name?"

Draco paused for a second. "I'll just be your sidekick or something. Silver Spoon?"

Harry smiled. "Nice. A spoon. I can already see our fame: Dragon and Spoon wreak havoc in the Great Hall with tongue twisters and live cockroach clusters! Teachers gone wild!"

Draco grinned. "You're gonna love Hogwarts this year." He picked up a handkerchief and blew his nose.

"Do you cry often?" Harry asked jokingly.

Draco rolled his eyes in a playful manner, "Not too often." The two boys began to laugh wholeheartedly.

This year would be different. Look out Hogwarts, Harry Potter was back, again! This time, with more girls on his tail.


	9. Interlude: Youth

_Author's Note:_ This story has been updated and certain parts reworked. Mass-editing has taken place. Chapters 1-8 are almost in the final stages. The chapters after this are still in the Beta form, meaning that minor changes in dialogue, characterization, and style of writing might take place for the later chapters, but the plot will stay mainly similar.

By the way, this is a major cross-over later on. Snake from Metal Gear Solid. Link from Legend of Zelda, Ocarina of Time. Annabeth from Percy Jackson. Pokémon. Possibly more.

* * *

Interlude

_Chapter 1_: Harry's past life where he is betrayed by the Weasleys. Apocalypse destroys the corrupted reality and sends Harry's soul to a new reality.

_Chapter 2_: Harry gets caught while trying to eat a decent meal. He gets a concussion and is sent to the hospital. He dreams of meeting his parents, who tell him about the Wizarding World.

_Chapter 3_: Dumbledore obliviates Harry and sends him back to the Dursleys. He meets Aurora, a phoenix, who helps him run away. He meets Sirius Black and grows up as a young RuneCraft prodigy.

_Chapter 4_: A 12-year-old Harry goes to Diagon Alley for the first time. He gets a special green wand. Black Wizards, prime terrorists of the Wizarding World, strike and kidnap five girls.

_Chapter 5_: Harry bravely duels Lucius Malfoy. Lucius lets loose a stray killing curse and kills Sirius. Harry breaks down. Meanwhile, Aurora is revealed as a magical deity, Lady Destiny. She discusses Harry Potter up at Mars. When she returns, she is shocked to see Sirius dead and tries to help Harry. Harry ignores her and uses runecraft as well as unknown powers and knowledge to summon lightning and defeat the wizards. He is hailed as Raiden: Dragonboy.

_Chapter 6_: Harry curses Aurora and tells her to stay out of his life. He regrets his decision and wants her back. He grieves and finally decides to go to Gringotts. He meets Griphook and he learns about the Potter and Black wills. When he puts on the Peverell ring, the ghosts of James Potter and Sirius Black appear.

_Chapter 7_: Harry learns that he has been forced into a mini-Harem. He has to bond with Katie Bell this year to retain all of his Peverell powers. He goes to Bell manor and finds that Katie has been kidnapped. He goes to Malfoy Manor in his Raiden persona to rescue her and get revenge. While at the Malfoy Manor, he ends up rescuing Draco, a Muggle girl, Narcissa Black, Blaise Zabini, and Katie Bell. He apparates the rescued individuals to Bell Manor, where he collapses from magical fatigue.

_Chapter 8_: Harry wakes up at Bell Manor. He finds out that Katie nursed him back to health. He is still in disguise and gets the courage to kiss her, completing their bond. A few days later, with the help of Kreacher, he appears on Platform 9 and ¾'s. He reads Sirius's last request: to get girlfriends. He also finds out that he is bonded to the Greengrass sisters. He ends up meeting Blaise, Daphne, and Astoria but leaves their compartment after a few minutes of awkwardness. He meets Draco No-Name in another compartment. He reveals himself as Raiden and they become good friends.

* * *

Thank you for taking the time to read: _Dragonboy: The Destined Heir_. Chapter 9 updated 3-27-11

~SJM95X


	10. Blast, Getting Sorted In

_Disclaimer_: See Chapter 1. Updated 4-7-11.

* * *

Getting Sorted In

"So, we get off here?" Harry asked, pocketing his valuable belongings, like his wands and warding quills. "We don't need to pick up our Hogwarts trunks or anything?"

Draco shrugged as he opened the compartment door. The train had arrived at the Hogsmeade station only five minutes ago. "I dunno. Last year, I always carried all my stuff with me." He led Harry outside where several students were shuffling around.

"Why?" Harry frowned. He dragged his guitar and followed Draco off of the train. They went to the back of the train where everyone's trunks were located. "I don't fancy lugging my stuff with me."

Draco nodded. "I suppose. But the older years usually go through my stuff. I was thinking about putting some sort of protection charm on it or something before I got into school."

Harry frowned. "Here, let me help." He took out his green wand and engraved Draco's name onto the trunk. "There. Now, only people you allow can open it."

"Wow, you've got to teach me how to do that mate." Draco's eyes bulged out.

"Careful there, Drake, you're eyes might fall to the ground if you keep on gaping. And didn't anyone tell you it's not nice to stare?" Harry grinned.

Draco scowled. "Yeah, whatever Raidmybrain. Come on, let's go." Draco gestured Harry towards a cobblestone pathway. Harry nodded and followed Draco. Harry looked around curiously at the station around him. Students of all ages were laughing and roaming the area, on the lookout for friends.

"'erst 'ears 'tis way!" A large man shouted. A handful of eleven-year-olds followed the man as he led them towards a large lake where a number of boats were stationed. Harry took note that the rest of the students were waiting in some sort of line to get aboard carriages that were being led by black demon-like horses.

Draco continued past the carriages, where several students pointed in his direction and began to whisper furiously.

"Um, Draco, why are we walking? Why don't we just take a boat there or the carriages?"

Draco shrugged without turning back. "I told you. People don't like me."

Harry growled. "Well, aren't they friendly?"

"What's got your knickers in a twist?"

"I hate bullies."

"Yeah, well. That's Hogwarts for you. Either, you're well-respected and everyone likes you or you're the outcast who's constantly bullied and never cared for."

"Well, we have to do something about it." Harry said as the two continued further down the cobblestone path.

"You can't just change Hogwarts. It's been that way for years."

"Oh that's . . . _nice_. So . . . where the hell are we going?"

"We're going to Hogwarts, but we're walking there."

Harry nodded. "I see." A carriage galloped past them. "So, you're not afraid of the forest or the nighttime? I heard that there are werewolves, vampires, and spiders in here. Hell, there are even butterflies in here! Aren't you the slightest bit scared?"

"Well," Draco started, "not really."

"Really?" Harry nudged his friend's shoulder with his own. "I mean . . . _butterflies._ They seem beautiful creatures from the outside, but they're really nasty critters from the inside." Harry grinned.

"There are more than just werewolves and vampires." Draco gave an involuntary shudder. Draco's eyes flashed amber and glowed yellow for a few seconds. Harry chose the right moment to look away. He didn't see the scared look in Draco's eyes.

Harry turned to face Draco and smiled. "You seem to know the forest pretty well. Why is that?"

Draco fidgeted a bit. "Instinct, you know?"

"Yeah, mate." Harry bobbed his head. "I know exactly what you mean. So, how's life treating you?"

"Not so well. I hate Fate."

Harry grinned wider. "Hey, we're on the same pace here! Give me a high five! I'd kill Fate any day too."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "I was kidding."

Harry's hand stood in mid-air. "What . . . are you going to leave me hanging?"

Draco rolled his eyes and smacked Harry's palm. "Are you always like this?"

Harry shrugged. "I dunno. _Am _I?"

"You're impossible."

"No. I _do_ the impossible. But it's the same thing."

"Yeah, sure." Draco mumbled.

"So, let's talk." Draco wiggled his eyebrows. "No, you dirty-minded freak. I mean, how'd you get captured by your own father inside your own home?"

Draco scratched his head. "Well, it all started on a dark and gloomy night. Thunder lit up the hallways of Malfoy Manor. The wind whistled and–"

"Shut the hell up, Drake." Harry smacked Draco hard on the back of his head.

"Fine," Draco said. "I got kicked out of the Malfoy Manor last Christmas. I'll tell you why later."

"I understand. I've still got some secrets of my own." Harry nodded. Another carriage rushed past the two friends.

"Well, yeah. I nicked a couple hundred galleons from Lucius and took off in the midst of the night. I survived Hogwarts last year, but only barely."

"Lucky you," Harry grumbled. "I swear. Fate is such a witch."

Draco nodded. "This summer, I rented one of the rooms in the Leaky Cauldron. As for food, I went into the Muggle world and used ordinary first-year charms to nick a few fruits, mainly apples, from the random grocery store here and there. I used _Windgardium Leviosa_ and spells of that caliber."

Harry gaped. "Wow, I can make a Slytherin out of you yet. But didn't you get caught? You performed magic!"

Draco beamed. "You think that the most feared Death Wizard would give his son a wand that was registered with the Ministry?"

"Oh, nice," Harry complimented Draco. "You're smarter than I originally thought you would be."

"Hey," Draco retorted. "I'm pretty smart. You . . . _wound_ me."

Harry smirked. "Yeah, _okay_. Continue your damn story, Mr. Draco."

"Yeah, so when I saw that Lucius was in such bad condition when you took care of him that day in Diagon Alley, I decided to take the advantage and went over to the Malfoy Manor to rescue my mother. I was told that she was under constant restraint and put under the Cruciatus curse a lot."

"But why save her? Didn't she abandon you at one point?"

"No. She actually tried to keep me safe. She even tried to bargain with Lucius to keep me in the family."

"Oh." Another carriage breezed past. Now, the castle was in view. The dense forest around them began to thin out. "So you're not a Malfoy anymore?"

"Heavens no," Draco replied. "And I'm glad that I'm no longer a Malfoy."

"Really? Wow . . . you intrigue me, young man."

"Yeah, so when I entered the house, I was immediately caught prisoner. It was a trap. Unlike you, I don't have superior warding abilities."

"Yeah, well," Harry gave a smug smile, "I'm special."

"Right . . . whatever you say."

"Hey. It's true. I am special!"

Draco raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, fine. You're special."

Harry nodded with feigned pompousness. "It's a good thing that you understand my superiority over you."

Draco smiled and rolled his eyes. "Anyways, the whole plan messed up. I was captured. And the funny thing is that my own sister ambushed me . . . Catherine the Bitch."

"Wow . . . you must suck at defending yourself with a wand. I mean, how old is she? Like seven or something?"

"She's ten." Draco shrugged. "So you could say that. I'm not particularly good at Defense Against the Dark Arts class."

"What about Jessica? When'd you meet her?"

"Oh, her?" Draco's head immediately perked up. "Her name is Jessica Lancaster and she used to be my best friend in grade school. I actually went to a private Muggle institution when I was little. A lot of purebloods did, as a little side note. She used to have this huge crush on me back then. But soon, I started going to Hogwarts and we stopped seeing each other. She would sometimes call on the phonetele and stuff."

"It's called a tele_prone_, mate." Harry rolled his eyes. "Or something like that."

"That doesn't matter. Anyways, she was a prisoner like me. When she saw me, she began to cry about how my ex-father had killed her father. At first, she was angry at me but then, we made up. We . . . umm . . . kissed . . . a little."

"Nice, this is hot gossip right here." Harry burst out laughing. "Did you guys have sex yet?"

"Shut up." Draco turned bright red. "It was just a kiss. And I doubt she still likes me. After all, we don't get to see one another for months at time."

"_Sure_ . . . Drake. I bet you have wet dreams about her."

"That's beside the point! We're getting off track here."

Harry cleared his throat. "Yes, I'm so very sorry professor. Please do continue."

"Well, Lucius caught us kissing. When he saw us together, he got . . . really mad. He started to torture us. In the end, he forced one us watch the other get tortured. It was horrible. And then, this bloke named Raiden came in and busted us out."

Harry grinned. "Great. But seriously, don't tell anyone who I am in school unless I approve."

"Sure thing."

Harry began to whistle. "You know, I just realized something."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Yeah. You're my cousin."

Draco frowned. "Are you . . . serious?"

"Well, you're mother is Narcissa is a Black, right?" At Draco's nod, Harry continued. "So, you're a Black also. I'm Lord Black, godson of Sirius Black. We're essentially cousins."

Draco gaped and didn't catch the name 'Sirius Black'. "Holy shizzle Dungbombs on a stick!" He grinned with a weird gleam in his eyes. "Holy Agrippa and Morgana!"

Harry snorted. "Calm down, _cousin_."

"Calm down? This is . . . this is . . . beyond awesome! I'm related to the most well-feared and well-known teen in the Wizarding world. How the hell can I calm down?"

Harry smiled. "Yeah. If we'd met earlier, we'd be taking over the world together."

Draco stuttered. "Wh-what? Take over the world? How do you plan on doing that?"

"Just messing with you mate. Say, how'd you pay for your syllabus coursework books?"

Draco's eyes widened. "Oh, umm . . . I didn't. I was planning on borrowing the course books from the library and copying them over on parchments. I used up all my money to pay for the Hogwarts tuition this year."

Harry grabbed Draco's shoulder, who turned around abruptly. "Mate, you're a Black. You're as rich as me. And you're the closest thing I have to a friend and a brother. First thing tomorrow, I'm ordering a brand-new set of books from the syllabus just for you."

Draco gaped. "You mean it?"

"Of course. If you didn't already figure it out, I stick with friends, family, and loved ones like portraits stuck to the wall using super sticking charms."

Draco smiled. "Thanks. You'll definitely be in Hufflepuff like me."

Harry's breath hitched. "You . . . you're in Huffle . . . puff?" Harry bit his lip and began to chuckle.

"There's nothing wrong with being in Hufflepuff!" Draco huffed.

"No, no. I'm just surprised. I expected you to be a Gryffindor or a Slytherin."

"Oh shut up Harry." Draco shook his head. "You're definitely a Griffin by heart. I mean, you have the urge to save all innocents in your path. You're too . . . what's the word? Oh yeah, _chivalrous_."

"Am not." Harry huffed. "I'm a Raven."

"Not bloody likely." Draco whispered to himself.

"Hey!" Harry huffed and gave Draco slight push. Draco sent back a playful glare.

"You know what, I changed my mind. You're going to be a Slytherin."

"What!" Harry exclaimed, spluttering incoherent thoughts. "But . . . what . . . why?"

"It's because you're evil!" And with that, Draco sprinted off towards the Hogwarts gate.

"Oh, you'll pay for that Drake." Harry took off after the boy, running uphill the slanted pathway that led up towards the Hogwarts entrance. To his right stood the Quidditch stadium. To his left was a large beast-like tree. Harry recalled it to be the Whomping Willow.

Suddenly, Draco stopped running. They were in the courtyard in front of two grand oak doors. It was the Hogwarts Entrance. But the doors were closed.

"Gotcha!" Harry tackled Draco to the soft grass. Draco growled and pushed him off. "Hey, why so moody?"

Draco scowled. "Damn. We're late. The doors are locked! How are we going to get in now? We're doomed!" Draco began to hyperventilate.

"Cool down." Harry placed his hand on Draco's shoulder. "There's nothing wrong. Watch me."

Harry walked up towards the Hogwarts door and knocked loudly, as if expecting someone to open them. Nothing happened.

Draco snorted incredulously. "Do you honestly expect someone to open those huge doors? I can't even hear your knock! I bet nobody even noticed us disappearing! Damn, we're going to be locked out here forever, aren't we?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Drake, you're such a pessimist. Just relax! Yan Martel once said that, 'You must take life the way it comes at you and make the best of it.' Just relax."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "You read books?"

Harry cupped his hands and whispered into Draco's ear. "Don't tell anyone, or they'll get a bad impression of me. I am _not _a nerd. If anyone asks, I don't study or read books at all, understood?"

Draco agreed and smiled. "What do you suppose we do now?"

Harry gave a crooked grin. "I dunno about you, but I'm blasting open my way through."

"Wait . . . _what_?" Draco exclaimed. "Y-You can't just blast your way through the door! That's not right. This is Hogwarts we're talking about!"

Harry nodded in affirmation. "You're right." He drew his green stick of power, aka his green wand. "But I don't always do the right thing."

Before Draco could stop him, Harry drafted the Greek Delta, Sigma, and Omega signs into thin air. The symbols – ΔΣΩ – began to glow an azure blue in midair. The air hummed with magic. Harry immediately pushed the characters forwards with the palm of his right hand.

The three characters floated towards the grand oak doors and exploded upon contact. The castle shook and the right hinge broke. The right grand oak door clattered to the ground with a loud _thud_!

Harry frowned. "Damn, it wasn't supposed to make _that_ much noise . . . oh well." He cheered up as he walked over the broken entrance door and made his way into the castle. He turned back towards Draco. He frowned. "Are you coming' or what? You look a bit pale."

"H-harry!" Draco yelped. "We could get expelled for this!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Come on, we'll miss dinner. I'm starving mate. And my stomach gets really grumpy when I don't' feed it." Draco grudgingly followed his hazardous friend.

"What have I gotten myself into?" Draco grumbled.

"This, my friend, is called a dramatic entrance with _style_."

OoOoO

Professor McGonagall stood up. She looked around, still holding the piece of parchment in her hand. She cleared her throat as the whispers broke out. "It appears that Mr. Peverell was unable to make it to Hogwarts for some odd reason. Perhaps, he will be late."

Headmaster Flamel let a small smile light up his wrinkled face. "Yes, of course he is." The vulture of a witch turned to face her colleague. "I am sure that he will be arriving soon. Please have a seat Minerva." McGonagall nodded and took her seat to the right of the Headmaster. "As you all know, this year, Lord Peverell _Black_," he stared pointedly at Minerva McGonagall, who in turn grumbled, "shall be attending Hogwarts as a transfer student."

People began to whisper loudly once more.

"Now, onto more important things. The Forbidden Forest is off limits. Hogsmeade visits are open to third-years and up, and only to those who have their permission slips already signed by a guardian. Also–"

_Rumble!_ Headmaster Flamel was cut off by a loud noise that echoed from outside the Great Hall. The castle shook and the candle lights flickered.

Students began to panic and jumped out of their seats, ready to evacuate the building.

"Silence!" Headmaster Flamel got up from his seat. "Please remain calm. Minerva, please accompany me to the entrance gates. It appears that someone has breached our wards."

Before anybody could act, the Entrance Hall gates swung open, revealing two blonde-haired teenage boys. One of the boys had a guitar strung to his back. His hair seemed like a mess. The other boy looked a bit nervous and was an inch taller than the first boy.

Everyone quieted down at once. Professors Snape and Dumbledore – the Potions Master and DADA teacher, respectively – raised their wands in the general direction of the intruders.

"Please drop your wands and come forward," McGonagall commanded, pointing her wand at the two boys.

"Whoa, folks. Relax. I'm Harry James Peverell Black. New student . . . ring a bell?" Harry put his hands into the air, letting his wand clatter to the ground.

"Ah, yes. We were expecting you several minutes ago." Professor McGonagall dropped her defensive stance, as did Snape and Dumbledore. "Come forward Mr. Peverell."

Harry scowled. She had forgotten about Draco! "And this is Draco." He gestured towards Draco, who fidgeted under the hateful glares of hundreds of students.

"Mr. No-Name! Detention for being late!" McGonagall glared at the boy with hatred.

"Bu-but Professor McGonagall, I was just –" Draco spluttered.

"Return to your table, Mr. No-Name. You will serve detention with me tomorrow afternoon at seven o' clock sharp." Draco's shoulders slumped down as he made way towards the Hufflepuff table. Nobody made room for him to sit, so he remained standing.

Harry frowned. "Mrs. McGonagall. I would appreciate if you called my cousin by his appropriate name. His name is Draco Black." At this, Draco gaped. "And my full name is Harry James Peverell _Black_."

"Of course," the elder witch replied. Her thin smile faded.

Harry walked over towards Draco. "Come on, Draco." Harry led his cousin to an end of the table. Harry looked at the red-head girl sitting there and asked politely, "Move over, please?"

The redhead warily nodded and made room for the two boys.

"Thanks Harry. You're the best." Draco whispered into Harry's ear as he took a seat. "And you seriously consider me a Black now?"

Harry nodded and faced the staff table. Snape and Dumbledore were looking at him with perplexed faces. McGonagall seemed a bit irate. Professors Sprout and Flitwick remained emotionless. But it was the headmaster's demeanor that surprised him the most.

"Good evening Lord Peverell Black," Headmaster Flamel smiled kindly. "I was warned that you had an uncanny ability of luring mischief."

Harry smiled. "Thank you, headmaster. I believe I need to be sorted?"

"Yes, I believe so too. Minerva, if you will do the honors?"

Minerva McGonagall narrowed her brows at the boy in question. "Put on the hat and sit down on the stool."

"Whatever you say." Harry mumbled.

Harry plopped down onto the stool and allowed the hat to be lowered onto his head.

_'Ah, Mr. Potter. Welcome back to Hogwarts.'_ The sorting hat mused inside Harry's head.

_'How the hell do you know my name? And what do mean, welcome _back_?'_

_'Well, it appears that I have already sorted you. But I sorted you in a very bias manner before. It appears that your soul has already been through Hogwarts and much of life in another reality.'_

_'What the heck are you talking about crazy hat?'_

_'Nothing, my dear boy. Well, let us see. Ah . . . much courage and bravery. Oho. You are very chivalrous indeed. Gryffindor shall be perfect for you.'_

_'Oh, you better not! I am _not_ a Gryffindor. You hear? Just put me in Ravenclaw.'_

_'And why is that, young hero?'_

_'Well, firstly. I am smart.'_

_'Yes, very arrogant. One point for Slytherin.'_

_'No! I mean it. And secondly, I made a bet with Drake."_

_'Another point for Slytherin. Indeed, you are ambitious and have a thirst to prove yourself. And have the need to avenge your loved ones if harmed. Oho, the Conqueror of the Skies? My, my. Much knowledge! You are a possible Ravenclaw. Mhmm. Difficult, very difficult.'_

Fifteen minutes passed and nobody said a word. Headmaster Flamel looked at his pocket watch and smiled knowingly.

"Why are you smiling, Professor?" Fred Weasley spoke up from the crowd.

Nicholas Flamel looked back at the young prankster. "It appears that Mr. Peverell Black has broken the record for the longest sorting in the years of Hogwarts. We can expect great things from him."

Suddenly, the sorting hat moved and shouted, "THE BOY CANNOT BE SORTED!"

Whispers flooded the Great Hall.

"Is he a squib?" A Slytherin shouted out.

To everyone's surprise, the sorting hat chuckled. "No, he is not Mr. Nott. In fact, he may as well be the most powerful wizard in several centuries with a magical power level of seven. His core is growing at a fairly high exponential rate."

"Merlin," gasped Flitwick, clutching his chest. Professor Dumbledore had been a level nine at his prime. If the child was still growing, his magical core would easily surpass the average adult magician's core before his fifteenth birthday.

"As for my reason: he cannot be sorted because I would be doing a great injustice by sorting him. He belongs in all of the houses, with the exception of the Hufflepuff house. If I were to sort him into Gryffindor, he would turn out to be too reckless and chivalrous for his own good. By placing him in Ravenclaw, he would lose his power level in exchange for his thirst for more knowledge. If I were to place him in Slytherin, he would become too ambitious and arrogant. Hence, it would be better if he were to be in all three houses for the next month or so as to see which house best fits him. I shall sort him then, and only then."

Harry groaned. This was _not_ what he had been expecting. He got up from the stool and began to make his way towards Draco on the Hufflepuff table. Slowly, the headmaster got up and began clapping for him. Others began to clap as well while others looked at him with awe and fear.

"Please continue the feast." Headmaster Flamel remarked and sat back down onto his extravagant chair.

Harry sat down next to a shocked Draco. "Alright there, mate?"

"Damn Harry. You never cease to amaze me."

Harry let out a melodious chuckle. "I told you, just wait and see Drake." He began to politely eat the inviting steak and pasta in front of him. "Man, I gotta give it up to those awesome house elves. They make the best food out there. It's like a five-star restaurant."

Draco grinned. "You've got one thing right Harry."

"Um, excuse me." Susan Bones interrupted their conversation. She was the redhead girl from earlier.

Harry turned around to face her and raised his eyebrows. "Um, yes milady? Can I help you?"

Susan blushed as she caught sight of Draco. She tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear. "Um, well I couldn't help it. I heard that you wanted to . . . give it up to the house elves?"

Harry nodded. "Um, yeah . . . it's an expression."

Susan bit her lip. "Well, I could show you the way to the kitchens where you can personally thank them. If you want, that is." She added, blushing wildly.

Draco gaped like a fish. Harry gave him a smug grin. "No, no. It's alright milady. I know my way to the kitchens already."

Susan gasped. "But only Hufflepuffs know the way. Unless . . . the Weasley twins told you?"

Harry shook his head. "Nah, my godfather did. Well anyway, I'm flattered by your offer, but, no thanks."

Susan looked put down. "Oh, well, see you around." She turned around and went back to her seat.

Draco looked at him incredulously. "Why did you turn down that beauty queen?"

Harry snorted. "Mare, I barely know her. Besides, I think she was checking you out, not me."

Draco shrugged, ignoring the last part of Harry's comment. "So, where are you sleeping?"

Harry dug into his chocolate cheese cake. "I dunno. Maybe Gryffindor for sleeping arrangement. I'll do my homework in the Slytherin common room. Eat meals with the Hufflepuffs. Have sex in the Ravenclaw common room."

Draco spewed pumpkin juice all over the table. "What?"

Harry grinned. "Just kidding, mate."

Suddenly, the doors burst open. It was Filch, the caretaker. He looked frantic. "Headmaster Flamel! Headmaster Flamel! We have a catastrophe!"

Everyone quieted down.

"What is it, my dear caretaker?"

"The front doors are broken. The right oak door has been removed from its hinges and is broken! It is covering up much of the courtyard!"

The headmaster frowned. "Who could have done this? Do not fret, mister . . . caretaker. We shall take care of this. In the meanwhile, continue eating students."

Filch left, followed by his creepy cat, Mrs. Norris.

The headmaster cleared his throat. "Does anyone know what happened to the gates?"

Every head turned towards Harry, who was marveling the taste of the strawberry shortcake.

"Harry," Draco elbowed Harry in the ribs.

"Ow," Harry growled but finally took notice of the people staring at him. "Oh, the gates. Sorry about that, Mr. Flamel." Harry grinned sheepishly. "I'll have them fixed up in no time."

And with that, he grabbed Draco and rushed out of the Great Hall towards the scene of the crime. His rushed departure didn't let anyone object what he had just said.

Professor Flamel smiled. The boy was a true Marauder. He would bring change for sure.

"Why are you bringing me along Harry?" Draco wheezed as Harry dragged Draco by the hems of his robes. "Damn, you always get into such weird situations. I mean, how are we going to fix the gates? They're humongous!"

Harry smirked. "I didn't say that it was going to be me who was going to fix this."

"What do you mean?"

"I do things with style," Harry straightened his collar with feigned arrogance.

"And how are we going to do this?"

"I dunno. I just go with the flow." Harry fumbled with his tools. He took out his assorted Warding quills and multiple wands. "Let's see." He sat down onto the cold stone floor. He began to engrave something onto the ground.

"What the hell are you doing?" Draco asked. "Doing graffiti on the Hogwarts floor isn't going to help us move this heavy-arse two-ton oak door."

"Yeah it is," Harry smiled. "Finished! And Draco, it's called art."

Draco looked down at the floor. "Um, what's that?"

The engraving read: δράκων

Harry grinned. "It means Dragon in Greek."

Draco scowled. "And this helps us, exactly how?"

Harry shrugged. "I dunno. It looks cool."

Draco groaned. "We're doomed!"

"Relax Drake! Remember what Yan Martel said?" Draco nodded. "Well, let's just take life the way we get it."

"What do we do about the doors?"

Harry grinned. "Well, my instinct is telling me to tell Hogwarts to fix itself."

"And that means?"

Harry shook his head. "You're thinking too much, mate. Watch and learn."

"Bloody barmy, that's what you are." Draco grumbled but watched.

"I, Harry James Peverell Black, tell you, Hogwarts, to fix yourself." Harry waited.

Nothing happened.

"Well . . . it was worth a try."

Draco groaned. "I thought you had a plan!"

All of a sudden, the five Greek symbols engraved on the floor began to glow. Soon after, they began sinking into the castle floors. The fallen door began to magically levitate itself and attached itself to the broken hinge. The hinge began to click and mended itself. In just seconds, the Hogwarts entrance gate was as good as new.

Draco stuttered. "Ho-how t-the hell?"

Harry frowned. "That's . . . peculiar."

"How'd you do that?"

Harry finally snapped back to reality. "I dunno." He smiled widely. "But, you've got to admit. I've got _style_!"

Draco nodded and repeated, "You've got style."

"Goodnight, Drake." And with that, Harry calmly rushed to the seventh Gryffindor tower.

Draco was frozen in daze. "You've got style."

Well, that's what happens when inanimate objects actual listen to you.


	11. Familiar Feelings

_Disclaimer_: See Chapter 1. Updated 4-7-11.

* * *

Familiar Feelings

Harry woke up groggily the next morning. He blinked open his eyes and reached for his glasses. He frowned at the decorum around him. Everything was red and gold, every wall embroidered with a picture of a roaring lion.

Harry yawned. He was in the boys' second year Gryffindor dormitory. That much was really obvious. He looked around. There were four other beds stacked around in a circular formation. Harry shrugged. Nothing too special.

"Hello," someone said from the bed to his right. "I was waiting for you to wake up."

Harry got up and turned around to face a blue-eyed red-head with a lot of freckles. "Um, hi?"

"My name's Ronald Weasley. I'm a pureblood, like you." He said arrogantly.

Harry grumbled. _I'm not pureblood, idiot-for-a-face._ "Nice to meet you. Now if you would excuse me, I have to go get ready for my day."

Ronald got up too. "I'll help you get to the bathroom. And since you're new, I'll be nice enough to help you around classes also."

"No, thanks. I know my way around Hogwarts really well, probably even better than you. But thanks for the offer." Harry started looking through his trunk for valuables. He spotted his quills and quickly pocketed them.

"You know, I think we should be best mates."

Harry muffled a snort. "Right . . . well, see you later." Harry stood up and slung his trusty guitar over his back. "And, thanks for the offer. But no thanks, Weasel."

Ron turned red and stood up, blocking the dormitory exit. Harry looked around and noticed that the other three boys had already left. "Listen, Peverell. You don't want to get on my bad side. It'd be best if you listened to me."

Harry sighed. "Get out of my way."

Ron sneered. "I'm warning you, Peverell."

Harry shook his head. "Fine, I'll be your friend. Happy?"

Ron gaped. "Really? You'll . . . we'll . . . oh that's great mate. Listen, I think –"

Harry quickly shoved Ron out of the way while he was distracted. "Sucker," he mumbled under his breath.

Ron rolled onto the floor. He frowned. Was this how Peverell treated his friends? Ron shrugged. It was worth chasing after the boy.

"Hey, where are you going, Pev- I mean Harry? Wait up!" Ron shouted.

Harry grumbled and rushed out of the Gryffindor common room as quickly as possible.

OoOoO

Katie Bell watched as Harry Peverell Black rushed out of the Gryffindor. She frowned.

_Damn_, she thought. She had been waiting to meet him. After all, she was supposed to marry him later on in life anyways. She wanted to get to know him. Hopefully, he'd turn out to be a nice guy. She felt a bit nervous herself.

She got up from the couch in front of the fireplace and exited the common room. She looked around deserted corridor and didn't see a single trace of Harry.

_Where'd he go?_ She fumbled with her hair nervously. All of a sudden, a figure bumped into her and she fell to the ground.

"Move the hell out of the way, Bell." Ron growled, as he got up and dusted his clothes.

"You should watch where you're going, Weasley." Katie stood up and rubbed her bum.

"Say, have you seen Peverell? He ran out on me! He couldn't have gone far." Ron rushed past her turned the corridor.

Katie frowned. "Guess I'll have to talk to him later," she grumbled, making her way down towards the Great Hall for breakfast.

OoOoO

Harry entered the Great Hall completely refreshed. He thanked Sirius for having taught him Hogwarts inside out.

As he made his way towards the Hufflepuff table, people began to whisper intimately.

"Is that _him_?"

"I heard that he lost his virginity in a foursome."

"Wow . . . I wanna be just like him when I grow up."

"Hey, what was the Herbology summer assignment?"

"Doesn't he look like that guy from PlayWizard?"

"Isn't he dreamy like Lockhart?"

"Who's Lockhart?"

"Hey, pass the peanut butter and. . . ."

"I heard he's the reincarnation of You-Know-Who."

"I heard he used dark magic to fix the door the other day."

"Boiled goose. . . ."

"I heard he uses his guitar as a weapon."

Harry tried not to laugh. The rumors were so ridiculous. Harry kept his calm and affronted a jovial-looking Draco.

"Hey Drake."

"Hey Harry," Draco smiled. "Say, who did you lose your virginity to? I heard that there were three of them involved."

"I don't remember when I lost my virginity." Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm a manwhore, after all." Harry added sarcastically. Harry dug into his pancakes, making sure there was plenty of maple syrup beforehand.

"Where were you? I heard that Weasel was running around the castle looking for you."

Harry groaned. "What a creeper."

Harry reached across the Hufflepuff table and grabbed the pitcher of orange juice, pouring a glass for Draco and himself. He felt someone observing him closely.

He looked up and caught Dumbledore staring at him cautiously. For a second, he thought that he saw the old man's eyes flash a violent red. Harry gasped and rubbed his forehead as pain shot up in his scar. He quickly looked away.

"What's wrong?" Draco turned around and eyed Harry suspiciously.

"Nothing." Sirius had warned him about Dumb Le Dork. He'd have to watch out for the old coot.

After a few minutes, the heads of the houses began circulating the Great Hall, handing out the time tables.

"Mr. Peverell," Professor Sprout approached him. "Because you do not belong to any house in particular, you may choose your own schedule. Just make sure to hand in all work on time, and keep in pace with your fellow classmates. Have a good day."

"You too, Professor," Harry replied kindly.

Draco whistled as he looked through his own schedule. "Nice."

"Agreed. Hey, I just remembered. I need to order the new syllabus for you, Drake."

"You don't have to, really." Draco tried.

"Hell yes, I have to." He wiped his mouth with a napkin and dug out some parchment and a Muggle pen, much to the surprise of the students around him. He began to scribble something onto a piece of paper and finally signed his name at the bottom.

"What exactly are you doing? And why are you using a Muggle utensil?"

"You'll see."

"You don't have an owl. How do you plan on sending the order form?"

Harry smirked. "Three words, Drake." He held up three fingers. "I've. Got. Style."

Draco frowned. "Um, that's technically four..."

Harry groaned. "Shut up, Drake." Draco sniggered. "Kreacher!"

A delayed pop later, the prestigious house elf materialized in front of Harry and bowed deeply. Several students around him scooted away, having never seen a house elf up close before.

"Master Harry sir, you being calling Kreacher?"

"Yeah. Listen, can you buy the list of books from Flourish and Bott's from Diagon Alley?"

Kreacher nodded reluctantly. "Yes, Kreacher being doing this. But it mays takes a whiles."

Harry nodded. "How long?"

Kreacher blushed. "An hour at least, sir."

Harry nodded. "Okay, go."

Kreacher bowed deeply before popping away.

"What was that?" asked a very nervous first-year muggleborn.

"A house elf, my friend." Harry patted the boy on his back. The boy almost flinched away upon seeing Harry approach him. "Don't worry. I don't kill every person I hate." The first-year gulped. Harry just chuckled. "Just kidding, little one." Several elder students looked at the two with interest.

oOo

**Meanwhile. . . .**

Lady Destiny continued to search the ancient magical library of Mars. She shuffled through one book after another. One row after another. One shelf after the other. But she couldn't find what she was looking for. A way to go back to Harry. A way to protect _her _Harry.

"It's no use," Lady Fátè intervened. "You're just tiring yourself out, Dest."

"Bu-but I have to help Harry. He obviously doesn't know what to do without me. He's doomed without my guidance!"

Lady Fátè shook her head. "It's not worth it. You're using up valuable time. You need to draft destinies for other kids. Stop focusing on the Chosen. He'll be fine. He's called the Chosen for a reason."

Destiny shook her head. "I need to guide Harry! He doesn't know how to control his alter ego. He's incapable of transforming at will. He doesn't have any control over his powers! I need to guide _my_ Harry!" Destiny instantly blushed afterwards.

Lady Fátè smirked. "There are plenty of other mortals for you to snag. He's just a kid. Give him a break."

Destiny wrinkled her nose. "No, Fátè. I don't love him like a lover. I love him like a child. I've been a mother to him for the past few years. In a way, he's my . . . son. I need to take care of him. I won't be able to forgive myself if anything happens to him! I need him." She pleaded possessively.

Lady Fátè shook her head. "You get too sentimental sometimes. I mean, honestly. What's the _chance_ that you'll actually be able to go back to Harry?"

Destiny glared at the other goddess. "You're not helping!"

Fátè smirked. "I'm just stating the facts, missy. But hey, you might get _luck_y."

Destiny gaped. "Fátè, you're a genius!"

"I am? I mean . . . I am. Yes, I'm a genius." The other immortal bobbed her head, but then frowned. "Wait, why am I a genius?"

Destiny squealed and hugged Fátè. "I love you!" And with that, she rushed out of the house.

"Wait, where are you going Dest?" Lady Fátè followed her outside.

Destiny withdrew her Vortex and threw it onto the ground, where it expanded. She stepped inside and disappeared from the red planet of the Magical Aristocrats.

"Hey wait up . . . where are you going? Wait a second . . . don't tell me . . . oh no! You did _not_ just go to _them_ for help! Come back here right now, Destiny!" Lady Fátè panicked. "No! Come back! Destiny! Come . . . back. . . ."

OoOoO

Harry followed Draco towards his first class. Potions Class was in the dungeons.

Draco groaned. "We have potions with Gryffindors on the first morning back. This is really bad."

"Why is that?"

"Snape hates everybody that isn't in his house. He's the head of the Slytherin house."

"Wait, you said _Snape_? As in Severus Snape?"

Draco nodded. They paused outside the Potions classroom, where many other Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs were lined up. "Why, you know him already? He does have a bad reputation."

Harry grinned. "I'm supposed to annoy the hell out of him this year."

"Why . . . wait, I don't even wanna know." Draco shook his head.

"No, no. It's alright. I'll tell you."

"Well? Why?"

"It's really simple actually. My godfather told me to."

Draco frowned. "Your godfather? Why would he tell you to specifically bother _Snape_?"

Harry mimicked his late godfather without feeling too depressed. "In order to teach Snivellus a lesson, I want you to annoy the hell out of him and make his teaching as wretchedly twisted and severe as possible."

"Why does your godfather sound evil . . .? And what lesson?"

Harry grinned. "My godfather was a prankster himself, a Marauder as a matter of fact. And to answer your second question, he said that Snape needs to learn to wash his hair more often."

Draco burst out laughing, as did some of the people who were listening onto their conversation, much to Harry's displeasure. But he ignored them. There was no way he was going to make new friends anytime soon. He didn't trust them. Nope. Not one bit.

Harry looked up and caught the jealous stare of a bushy-haired girl with cinnamon-brown eyes. She quickly turned away upon being spotted. She immediately began to talk to Ronald Weasley, who in turn stared at Harry.

Harry also noticed that Katie was looking at him intently, trying to figure him out. Harry gave her a seductive smile, mouthing, "Olive juice." The blonde girl gaped, frowned, and turned around as rapidly as possible.

Suddenly, the door burst open, revealing a pale, crooked-nose, greasy-haired teacher.

Snape snarled. "In." Immediately, every student rushed inside the dingy, dark classroom, knowing that lingering around would only piss Snape off more.

Harry and Draco chose to sit towards the back of the room. Ronald Weasley approached them. Harry groaned in frustration.

"Hey mate, can I sit here?" He asked.

Harry closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. After a few seconds, he opened them and put on a false cheery smile. "Why don't you go and play with your Granger girl."

"As your friend, I suggest that you stop hanging around with scum like No-Name here." Ron retaliated.

Harry's calm demeanor cracked. "Listen, Weasel. There is _no _person here whose name isNo-Name. If you're referring to my friend here," Harry pointed to Draco, "then I'll have you know that his name is Draco _Black_."

Ron huffed. "Black as in Sirius Black? Black was a traitor who betrayed the Potters. I can see the resemblance between them, though. They're all scum."

Harry's calm demeanor cracked even more. Harry growled. "Black is one of the noblest and most prestigious family lines in the Wizarding World, unlike the _Weasleys_." Ron narrowed his eyes. "I suggest you get out of here before someone gets hurt. And I'll make sure that that _someone_ is _you_." His eyes began to ripple with commanding power.

Ron gazed into Harry's hypnotizing green eyes and glared back with full force. "You're going to regret this, P-peverell." The redhead slipped past towards a neighboring work station.

Draco gulped. "Remind me to _never_ get on your bad side."

Harry took in a deep breath and drowned his feelings for Sirius. He opened his eyes and gave a half-chuckle.

Unfortunately for the two of them, Severus Snape just happened to _hear_ Harry crack a smile in his classroom. Snape frowned. Smiling was intolerable in his classroom. Having happy children in classrooms was unacceptable. Snape's job was to make all students feel miserable. Except for the Slytherins, of course, but that's beside the point.

"Why are you smiling in my classroom?" Snape barked. "Well, well, well. We haven't even started class and already, Mr. _Peverell_ Black has caused a mishap." Snape stalked up towards the two friends with a slight sneer on his face.

Draco's eyes widened with fear, while Harry stayed put. He wasn't afraid of Snape. Snape was simply a cruel tormentor, a verbal harasser. In fact, Harry would teach people like Snape their place in society: nowhere. Right . . .? Right!

Harry shook his head. "No _professor_." He purposely placed emphasis on the end of the sentence. "There is absolutely nothing funny. But I have to admit, your face is pretty hilarious."

Every student in the room stopped where they were and turned to see the new kid face up to the most-feared teacher in all of Hogwarts history.

"What. Did. You. Say?" Snape seethed with anger. Having happy children in a closed classroom was bad enough. Having disrespectful children in a closed classroom was an Unforgivable Curse straight to his head.

Harry shrugged casually. "Nothing much sir. I just said that your face is –"

Snape's lip curled up in resentment. "You will serve detention with me tonight at 8 o'clock this afternoon sharp. And fifty points from Gryffindor."

"But I'm not in Gryffindor, Professor."

Snape snarled. "Well, what house are you in?"

Harry smiled triumphantly. "Slytherin, sir."

Snape frowned. "Don't play games with me, Peverell."

"No, you misunderstood me, _sir_. Since I belong to all houses except for Hufflepuff, I get to choose which house I am in for the day. For today, I am a Slytherin. So, I believe it is in order that you took off fifty points from the Slytherin house. After all, I did disrupt your class. In fact, I insulted you."

Snape growled. "Forget the points."

"But professor, that would be unfair. I would have to report this to Headmaster Fl–"

Snape growled. "Fine! No detention or points taken away. This is your first offense so I'm letting you off with just a warning."

"Thank you, professor. I understand my mistakes. I will _try_ not to get on your nerves again." Harry stated calmly.

Snape growled. Apparently, the Peverell kid was clever. He looked at Draco Black, the new kid's cousin. He smiled. Yes, he could find a way to humiliate the other Black. He noted that Draco hadn't taken out a potions book yet. "Where is your potions textbook, Mr. Black?"

Harry frowned. "Well. . . ."

"Not you, Peverell. I asked Mr. _Black_, not Mr. _Peverell_ Black. So, Mr. Black, where _is_ your potions textbook?"

Draco's eyes widened. His syllabus hadn't arrived yet. Kreacher had said that he would buy the course within an hour. But it had only been half-an-hour since breakfast time. He didn't have his Potions textbook.

"Um . . . well you see. . . ." Draco cowered under the professor's gaze.

"Fifty points from Hufflepuff. And I believe a detention is in service, no Mr. Black?"

Harry sighed. He hated bullies. "Umm, actually professor." Snape turned towards Harry. "I borrowed Draco's potions book to read before coming into class. You see, I didn't buy the Potions textbook and ordered a new one just this morning. So, if you are going to take points off of anyone, it should be from my house, which is Slytherin."

Draco frowned and was about to speak up when Harry stomped on his foot, hard.

Snape growled. "Fine. Since you are new here, Mr. Peverell Black, I shall give you a freebie. You may borrow one of the school textbooks for the time being. I . . . apologize and take back my detention Mr. Black."

"And the house points from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff?" Annoying Snape was actually easier that it seemed. It was officially Harry's new hobby, or at least one of his hobbies. And it was a good time-consumer as well.

"Yes, those too. I give the points back." Snape added morosely. "Today, class, we shall be brewing the. . . ."

Harry smiled and went to a bookshelf towards the left-hand corner of the classroom. He searched through the books but couldn't find a second-year course book. After a few moments, he picked up a very battered-up sixth-year potions book, _Advanced Potion-Making_.

He sat back down next to Draco. He looked up and noticed that much of the class was looking at him with awe. He shrugged.

"Harry mate, you didn't have to –" Draco began to apologize but Harry held out his hand.

"Look Drake, drop it. You're my best mate." Draco raised his eyebrows. "Yes, you are. I obviously care about you." Draco raised his eyebrows again. "No, seriously. I do. I don't know exactly why, but I do. And besides, this way nobody got into trouble. No detentions. No house points off. So, cool down. What are friends for?"

Draco fumbled with Harry's potions textbook. "Um, do you want this back?"

Harry grinned and shook his head. "Keep it for now. Snape might get suspicious. Return it to me when you get your new syllabus."

Draco's eyes widened. "But, you already bought me a new set and . . . this is too much and–"

Harry stopped Draco from rambling. "Forget about it. Come on. Let's start working on the damn potion."

"But Harry, how can I ever repay you? You've done so much for me already. And we barely know each other, no offense. I have to . . . repay you somehow."

Harry groaned. "Your inner Hufflepuff is kicking in, isn't it?"

Draco nodded meekly. "Yeah. But I really feel like doing something in return."

Harry scratched his head. "Fine, you make the entire potion by yourself and leave me alone. Sound _fair_ enough?"

Draco nodded and began to prepare the cauldron. Harry pretended to help out. But really, he just sat there looking through the sixth-year potions book. It was oddly familiar.

Harry flipped through the pages and frowned as he _sensed_ familiarity. The smell was . . . familiar. The feel to the ripped pages was . . . familiar. The very texture of the cover of the book was . . . familiar. But . . . why?

Harry flipped to a random page and scratched the back of his head. He squinted his eyes. Apparently, there was small print along the sides of the margins. There were helpful hints on how to improve the brewing quality of the potions. But one thing caught his attention fairly quickly.

One of the tips read: _Use on enemies. Sectumsempra_.

Harry frowned. _Sectumsempra?_ He flipped through the pages. There were many _familiar_ curses and useful charms. _Muffliato? Langlock? Levicorpus? Liberacorpus?_

Familiar. Yet, not so familiar.

Why did all of these curses sound vaguely familiar? Maybe he'd read a book from the same author before? But that couldn't be right. These comments weren't made by the author. They were annotations, obviously made by a skilled student. Who was this student?

Harry turned to the cover and flipped to the inside. He frowned.

_This is property of the Half-Blood Prince._

oOo

**Meanwhile. . . .**

Destiny stumbled forward as the Vortex painfully ejected her onto the blue surface of her destination. Powerful winds whirled around her and tackled against her sensitive skin. Destiny slowly stood up. She shivered at the extremely low temperatures, perhaps as low as fifty Kelvin.

Destiny rubbed her arms together as she examined the gaseous surface beneath her. She looked up at the dark atmosphere above. The sun seemed millions of light years away. The sullen, cold place was known as Neptune.

Despite her being immortal, she was still vulnerable. She took out her wand and cast an indestructible bubble charm around herself. Instantly, her body temperature rose.

Destiny looked around and gave an involuntary shudder. She gulped, wondering whether she had made the right decision. Was it worth going through all this trouble to save her Harry?

A vehement gust of wind knocked against her bubble, sending her staggering several feet backwards. Torrents of wind crashed against her from all directions. Destiny groaned as she painfully got up. It was said that the winds on Neptune experienced the worst climate in the solar system, the winds going up to hundreds of miles per hour on average.

Grumbling about how unfair her life was, which was fairly ironic for an immortal, she took out her wand and began to tread along a cleverly-devised path that led to the magical deities on the planet. As she pushed against the winds, she took a moment to think about what she was going to do or say once she met up with the immortals of Neptune.

What _would_ she say? Destiny didn't really have a plan. She just wanted to go back to Harry, one way or another. It didn't matter what she would have to do to achieve this. After a few hours of brutal walking, the storms around her began to lessen. Destiny sighed contently as she say signs of life up ahead – there were bright lights in the distance.

Gulping down a cup of ambrosia, Destiny began to sprint towards the light. After a few minutes of running, she came across an elegant blue palace. It was several stories high, several acres wide. And it was humongous!

She slowed down, panting for breath, and stepped into the vicinity of the large dark blue manor. She walked up the large stairs in a daze. The house around her was simply beautiful. Chandeliers hung where you would expect porch lights to be. The windows were as large as the entrance doors, which were at least twenty feet in length.

The door was decorated with emeralds, sapphires, and diamonds at random. The door itself was said to be made of pure indestructible diamonds and magical gold. But there was no proof behind these theories. It was all a mystery. The deities of the planet were said to be odd and peculiar. On the front door, there was a sign that read:

**Ψ Home of the Abandoned and Sacred Ψ**

**Ψ** Guardian of the Stones **Ψ**

sσάπφειρος. αδάμας. Σμάραγδος.

Several miniature sapphires, diamonds, and emeralds were engraved underneath the words, 'sσάπφειρος,' 'αδάμας,' and 'σμάραγδος,' respectively.

Taking a deep breath, Destiny raised her hand and brought it down against the large door. But before her knuckles reached the surface of the door, it creaked open on its own.

"Hello, Lady Destiny," whispered a feminine voice. Destiny looked up, clearly startled, and caught the sight of the three individuals she had been hoping to meet up with. "We have been expecting you for a while now. My name is Lady Faith."

The lady had blue-green hair and yellow eyes, much like Destiny. A teenager girl stood to her right, with white hair and blue eyes. Destiny suspected that the young girl was some sort of young deity in training. To her left stood an older man with blue-blonde hair and white eyes, who could only be Lord Luck.

"Please do come in," greeted the man. "We have much to discuss." Destiny nodded numbly, following the Unworthy Ones into their elegant house.

OoOoO

Much of Harry's first day passed by quickly. Herbology was fairly amusing, as neither Harry nor Draco had ever seen Mandrakes before. Lunch was fairly dull as well. However, Harry still preferred pizza over the weird cuisines that Hogwarts served every day.

During breaks and in between classes, Harry continued to look through the Half-Blood Prince's amazing potions book. It was quite useful. There were tips on how to tweak spells, how to increase the efficiency of nonverbal casting, and of course, how to increase the potency of several fairly diverse potions.

Finally, dinnertime came about. Harry wrinkled his nose at the sausage and mashed potatoes with gravy. Further down the table, there was some sort of curry. Deciding that he would eat spicy, Harry reached over to try the new dish.

"So, how do you like Hogwarts so far?"

"It's awesome," Harry grinned as he dug into his food. It was slightly spicy, but not too much. "I reckon we'll be able to start Marauding any day now."

"Uh huh. Right . . . so, what are you reading? You've been lugging that book around for the entire day."

"This, my friend, is a masterpiece and our one-way success to becoming expert pranksters. And duelers too."

"A potions book?" Draco looked hesitant. "Are you . . . feeling alright?"

Harry nodded. "I'm completely fine. And this isn't just any book. It's a sixth-year advanced potion-making book with helpful annotations. It also explains several concepts on constructing your own spells, altering wrist movements and flicks for maximum efficiency, and stuff about nonverbal casting. I'm not done reading it yet."

"Wow."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Is that all you have to say for yourself?"

Draco grinned. "Yep. Wow."

Harry continued looking through the book. Headmaster Flamel stood up and said a few measly words that Harry didn't even bother to listen to. After all, he always said the same thing anyways.

All of a sudden, Harry began to feel nauseous. He looked up at Draco and realized his vision was getting blurry. Draco waved his hand in front of Harry, blurring his vision furthermore.

"_You promise, 'Mione? You'll never leave me?"_

_A bushy-haired brunette smiled, flashing her straight, white teeth. "I promise, Harry. I'll never leave you on your own. You were my first best friend. Why would I abandon you?"_

"_Thanks, 'Mione. I knew I could count on you."_

"_No problem, Harry. No problem at all."_

Harry gritted his teeth. His eyes went cross-eyed. His head tingled with pain. It was searing pain. Then another image slammed into Harry's head, knocking him back into his subconscious state of mind.

_A redhead turned towards the bushy-haired brunette. "Will you do the honors?"_

_"With pleasure," she smiled cruelly, greed rolling off of her cinnamon brown eyes. "_Imperio!_ Kill yourself now!"_

Harry was left in a daze. After a few seconds, his vision went back to normal. Draco waved his hand in front of Harry again.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Harry assured Draco. "Don't worry, just tired."

"You're such a spoiled brat," Draco grinned.

Harry plastered a fake smile on his face and grinned back at his friend. However, he was panicking from the inside.

Harry looked at the book in front of him suspiciously. What had that been? A dream, or perhaps a vision? Did the new book have anything to do with these newly-found images?

After a few minutes, people started to leave. Harry was about to get up as well when someone tapped his shoulder.

Harry turned around. Not in the mood for chatting he abruptly responded. "Umm, can I help you?"

Hermione Granger flashed a cheeky smile. "Hello, I'm Hermione Granger. I'm a Gryffindor. Nice to meet you, Mr. Peverell."

Harry narrowed his eyes. He recognized the girl as being the same one from the Battle of Diagon Alley. The same girl from his . . . flashback? Or had it been a daydream? Harry frowned. Was he some sort of a seer?

Harry slowly bobbed his head. "Hello."

"I've read all about you in the _Politics in the Wizarding World_. Are you really the youngest and richest heir inside England?"

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Where the heck did you find out about this?"

"_Politics in the Wizarding World. _It's a book by –"

"Well, books aren't always correct," Harry interrupted. "And . . . is there something that you needed? Or are you here to flatter me?"

By the looks of it, she was probably just trying to befriend him for his status. Just like Ronald Weasley, aka Boron.

"Of course not, Lord Peverell. I'm just reaching out to you as a fellow classmate. I was wondering if we could be friends."

Friends? Harry looked at the girl and felt a sudden sense of hate. Her cheery mood only seemed to aggravate Harry even more. Hate ebbed into Harry's chest and congested his heart with a weight of great sadness.

_Loving friends is an oxymoron. Love is woe. Friends are foes._ A voice echoed inside of Harry's head. _Don't trust her. Give me control._

"You want to be . . . my friend?" Harry asked uncertainly. He felt himself lose control to his inner dragon.

She nodded. "I can help you get used to school. And you shouldn't hang out with Black," she pointed towards Draco. "It ruins your reputation."

Harry growled. He lost even more control. His stomach began to do cartwheels. "Get lost," Harry spat, unable to hold in his emotions.

Hermione frowned. "Well, I was just introducing myself."

The people around the two of them began to observe them.

"You weren't trying to introduce yourself to my arse! You're a disgrace! To everyone!" Harry's voice decreased by several octaves. His ears started to burn with heat and hatred.

"Look, Peverell. I was just trying to be helpful. You should choose your friends more wisely. I can help you there."

Harry lashed out completely this time, not caring about the consequences. "Who the hell are you to tell me who to make friends with and who not to? Didn't you hear me, blood traitor?" Harry's eyes flashed yellow, scaring the hell out of the students around him. His aura flashed, catching the attention of the staff in the front of the hall. The goblets and platter around him began to vibrate, cracks appearing on several of the plates. "Leave!"

The girl huffed. "I thought you weren't prejudice. But I obviously thought wrong." With that, she stalked out of the Great Hall.

Harry gripped onto the wooden table. He heard murmurs ripple throughout the Great Hall. That was expected. He clenched his fists. His rigged nails dug deep into the palms of his hands.

Draco looked at Harry with a weird look. "Um, Harry . . . ?"

Harry closed his eyes. He took a deep breath and tried to keep himself calm. He felt the dragon within wrestling with him for control. He had the extreme urge to run after Granger and rip out her guts right there. Why exactly? – He had no idea.

Harry tried as hard as possible to restrain himself from transforming into his dragon form in the midst of the Great Hall. That would definitely create problems. No doubt, the ministry and press would try to get a hold of him.

He began to shake violently. Harry bit his tongue and swallowed hard. He thought of Aurora. She would have wanted him to remain calm. A shiver ran down Harry's spine as he began to cool down.

And then, Harry opened his eyes. He caught the gaze of hundreds of students staring at him. Including the faculty. The headmaster looked genuinely worried about his health. McGonagall threw him a hateful glare, thinking he was a prejudice bigot.

"Mr. Peverell Black, how dare you use such vile language in a conversation!" McGonagall stalked up o him, seething from anger. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Katie Bell glaring at him. This made his heart clench.

Harry gulped. He'd lost control of his temper. Keeping his cool, he said, "'Blood traitor' is not vile language." And with that, he stalked out of the Great Hall in the same fashion that Granger had. Draco rushed after him.

"Harry, wait up. What's wrong?"

Harry felt his eyes tearing up. Tears of pain. Tears of sorrow. Tears of hateful vengeance. Harry rushed into the nearest classroom and sank against the wall, letting out a small wail. The classroom automatically locked itself. It was as if Hogwarts knew that he wanted some privacy.

Harry James Potter Peverell Black had finally cracked. He was human, after all.

Or was he . . . ?


	12. Dragonfist

_**Disclaimer**_: Harry Potter and any such related characters/symbols/ideas/etc. are in direct correlation to J.K. Rowling as of the year 2011.

* * *

_ This refers to the internal thoughts of the person being discussed._

"This is dialogue."

'_This is Harry talking through his soul bond or telepathically.'_

_ζ____This means Parseltongue.__ζ _

_**This is a random subliminal message.**_

* * *

Dragonfist

* * *

_Plop. Plop. _Raindrops hit against some sort of glass surface. There was an eerie silence. An uncomfortable silence. Silence was etched on the very surface of this translucent barrier.

Albus Dumbledore opened his eyes. He blinked several times before inhaling a deep breath. He immediately began to cough. The air reeked of dead bodies.

Albus tried to get up but an invisible force held him down. His hands were tied to his back. His feet were bound to the ground. And his back was arched sideways in a very awkward fetal position.

Albus Dumbledore groaned. Where was he?

He concentrated on using wandless magic to untie himself. But he couldn't even feel a single strand of magic inside of him. He struggled some more. But there was no point. He couldn't feel an ounce of magic. He couldn't let alone locate his own magical core, something he had come to rely upon much during the last great war.

Albus sighed and began to desperately search his own mind for reassurances. Perhaps a memory as to how he had gotten himself into this scenario? A clue on how to get out of this bizarre situation?

Albus frowned. The last thing he remembered? What _was _the last thing that had happened?

He remembered Trelawney making a prophecy about the Chosen One. Yes. He remembered that much. The Chosen had to be either Harry Potter or Neville Longbottom.

After finding out about the prophecy, Albus had... gone off to warn the respective families about Voldemort. Yes... He went off to tell the families to go into hiding. But what happened after that? Had he gotten captured?

Albus gulped, his eyes widening with fear and worry for the Potters and Longbottoms. What if they had been attacked? What if he hadn't been able to save them in time? What if Tom had actually gotten to him first... and defeated him in a duel? Had Tom beaten Albus in a duel?

Yes! That was the most rational answer. Tom must have beaten him Albus in some sort of a duel. And then, Tom must have obliviated him afterwards. But why? Why not just kill him off?

Albus closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. As usual, he tried to see the light in things. He always had. There was always hope, no matter what happened.

_There must be a way out of here_, Albus cringed as he tried to move his hands around but found them immobile.

Albus shook his head and began to silently pray to whatever superior being looked over humans and creatures alike. He prayed that this wasn't happening. He prayed that the world wasn't doomed to the Dark Lord's rule just yet. What if the Chosen One really _was_ dead?

"I see you are awake, Dumbledore." A silky voice drawled. Albus kept closed his eyes, not daring to turn to his other side. His frail heart beat faster. He tried to gulp, but his throat went dry. He'd recognize _that_ voice anywhere. This was definitely NOT good. Not good at all!

Albus moaned. Not from the stinging pain in his back. Not from the fact that he had lost most, if not all, of his magic. Not from the grumbling in his stomach from not having consumed any food for Merlin knew how long.

No, Dumbledore moaned out of pity. He had failed the Wizarding World and led it to its doom. Worst of all, Tom Riddle, the Dark Lord Voldemort, had him captive. He was a hostage. And he had no clue as to where he was being held hostage.

"How the mighty have fallen, Dumbledore. Oh, how the mighty have fallen!" Tom Riddle cackled. Albus could imagine the disfigured man with red eyes, pale and scaly skin, and slits for a nose, inside his head. Any minute now, a Cruciatus curse would hit him. That was Tom's style of fighting.

As if reading Albus's thoughts, the voice rung throughout the enclosed gloomy area. "You are correct, Dumbledore. I do seem very drawn into the Cruciatus curse. And since you don't seem to mind..." The madman's voice dripped with sarcasm, "_Crucio!_"

The curse hit Albus on the back. The elderly man began to writhe with pain. Pain he had never felt before. His heart began to ripple with hate. His magic and knowledge began to ooze out of his head. Albus frowned, utterly horrified. What kind of magic was this? Where was he?

* * *

The next few weeks of school were pretty unpleasant for the Black brothers, Harry Peverell Black and Draco Black. The two friends did their best to ignore the constant whisperings and just shrugged off the hateful glances. Most of the muggleborns, the half-bloods, and some of the Purebloods had formed some sort of alliance and would try their best to ignore Harry and Draco in between classes.

The ignorance and hatred stung Harry. It harmed the one thing that could not be directly or physically harmed – his mind. This type of neglect reminded him of the Dursleys. Emotional abuse had always affected Harry in many more ways than physical abuse or damage.

At first, the entire school shunned the two friends, thinking that they were pureblood fanatics. Then, the commotion slowly died down after a few days, as did most of the far-fetched rumors. Many of the Hufflepuffs, Slytherins, and Ravenclaws decided to simply ignore Harry and Draco. Some second-years Ravenclaws even began talking to them during lunchtime. Soon, almost everything was back to normal.

But the Gryffindors were a completely obscene case. Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger began to spread wild rumors. They outright spoke to fellow classmates and voiced their opinions about how dark the Black family really was. Rumors about how Harry Black had come to Hogwarts to recruit his own set of evil minions. Rumors about how he had bewitched the Sorting Hat. Unbelievable little things like this helped turn practically the entire group of Gryffindor second years against the two cousins.

"Are you done with the Charms essay?" Draco tapped Harry's shoulder.

"Huh?" Harry looked up from his Transfiguration homework. The Half-blood Prince's little book was tucked safely under his robes, his guitar casually slung onto the back of his chair.

"I said... did you do the Charms essay? On simple _Protego_ shields? And how to change their color and stuff?"

"Oh, that?" Harry began to play around with the quill in his right hand, twirling it in between his ring finger and his pinky.

"What else do you think I'm talking about? Stop spacing out, mate. Just relax. You'll be fine today."

Harry grumbled as he started going through his backpack. "I'll do fine? My reputation is so screwed up. People's opinions about me range from hate to lust. I won't get along with anyone in any of the houses. And if I get into Gryffindor, I'm legitimately fucked! I'm transferring out, no question asked." Harry found his essay and handed it to Draco. "Here. Have fun."

"Thanks. I suck at Charms." Draco snatched the essay and took a seat opposite of Harry. Harry resumed his Transfiguration homework.

"The library will be closing in half an hour," the librarian, Madame Pince, shouted from across the room.

"What? Darn. I just got here." Draco exclaimed and began to scribble frantically on a piece of parchment.

"You're not gonna plagiarize my essay, are you?" Harry looked up from his book and grinned.

"Nah. I'll paraphrase it. And even if I did copy it word for word, Flitwick wouldn't notice. He just checks to see that you got all the info. I mean, I heard Granger copies theories from the textbook and incorporates them into her essays word for word. And she gets straight O's." Draco furrowed his eyebrows in concentration.

"Whatever. I think you're just lazy Drake. You're gonna fail your O.W.L's."

"O.W.L's? That's in ages, mate. You worry too much."

"Mhm. Right." Harry rested the back of head against the top of his chair and began to scan the library.

There were very few students still in the library. There was a handful of upper-year Ravenclaws in the back of the library. Some Slytherin girls were huddled towards his left, near the window. Some Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors were huddled towards the front of the library, getting ready to leave. The tables were stacked along the sides, a clear aisle down the center leading straight to the library entrance...

"What are you looking at?" Draco's hazel-blue eyes locked with Harry's.

"Nothing. Just looking around. Apparently, this house rivalry shcizmit really splits people up. I haven't seen many people from two houses sitting together in the library. Or working together. Hogwarts basically hammers racism and prejudice into young people's minds."

"Yeah. That's Hogwarts." Draco smirked. "You sound way too much like an old person. Too wise for your own good."

"Hogwarts... you know, I always wondered why it's called that. I mean: Hog... and warts? Really? Couldn't the founders come up with something better?"

Draco shrugged. "Sorry, never read _Hogwarts: A History _completely. Heard that the name means something though."

"I don't think it mentions that in the book."

"You read the entire book?" Draco gaped. "You... nerd!"

"Nice one Drake. Yes, I'm a nerd." Harry closed his Transfiguration book. "You know, history is pretty boring. But, I have to bring up my ranking to first and that means actually studying about Goblin Wars, Wizard Prejudice, and stuff like that."

"You know, Hogwarts isn't all about studying, right? You need to do extracurricular activities as well."

Harry frowned. "Wait... really?"

"Um, yeah. I mean, it's nice if you get top scores in everything. But to get a Hogwarts diploma, you need to join clubs and teams. Didn't your godfather tell you about that? Or rather, didn't the headmaster tell you when you transferred in?"

"Not really. I wasn't aware of this. My godfather never had to do this. Since when?"

Draco wiped his forehead and shook his wrist. "Done. Here's your essay." Draco handed over Harry's work and began to pack up. "Well, after Dumbledore was fired from the Headmaster position in 1985 because he had lost his 'touch,' Sir Nicholas Flamel was appointed by the Ministry, where he used to work as an Unspeakable. He took over the position, overriding McGonagall's rank as Deputy Headmistress.

"In I believe 1988, the Headmaster Flamel implemented the new club and team policy. According to the system, Hogwarts students need at least 20 credits throughout their years at school to get the Hogwarts diploma. You get one credit every four months that you are on a club, and two credits for every four months that you are on a team."

Harry did the math and frowned. "Um... isn't that a lot? And when does this start? By the looks of it... I need to join a club real soon. Why didn't you warn me about this earlier?"

"Well, there are specific times of the year that teams and clubs take place. There are two four-month terms each year. The first term starts in October 1st and ends on January 31st. The next term for clubs and teams is from February 1st to May 31st. In June, there are end-of-term finals. September is when you get used to Hogwarts itself. So no clubs or teams meet up in those two months."

Harry scratched his head and checked to see if he had everything, double-checking the now vacant library table to see if he had left anything of value behind. The two began to head out of the library. "Wow. Thanks for telling me this... what's today? Oh yeah, September 31st. So, I have – what? – one day to decided which club or team I'm joining? That is bull! Crud!"

Draco grinned. "Don't worry. Credits are mad easy. You can join the homework club and the music club for ten terms, which is five years, and bingo! You're done. No sweat. And if you're a prefect, it counts as being in a club. Headboys and Headgirls get the equivalent number of credits as team members. Team captains get double the credits. And some clubs, like sex-ed, are really awesome and interesting!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Sex education? That's... unique. Say, what happens if you get more than 20 credits?"

"Nothing. Just looks good on your resume and diploma. Helps in getting jobs."

"Why not just join a bunch of clubs and teams in one year? And get this stupid credit thing over with all at once?"

"You can try. But it's been deemed impossible to get more than eight credits a year. People have tried before you, but it's too much for one individual to handle alone."

Harry grinned as he began to race down the moving staircase. "Challenge accepted, bitches. Codename Pawn. Age."

"What about Codename Get. Grils? Or Codename Maraud. Er .Too?"

Harry shrugged. "You gotta sort out your priorities. Pawn Now. Bone later."

Draco nodded in agreement. "You're right. Pawn now. Bag witches later."

* * *

**Meanwhile...**

Destiny fumbled with her hands. She sat down on a large comfy, velvet chair. Lady Faith led Lady Hope onto an elongated sofa. Lord Luck plopped onto a leather couch, which was situated directly opposite the female deities.

"Um... so... how did you guys know I would be coming here?"

Lady Faith smiled, her yellow eyes sparkling with glee. "We had a feeling that you would come to us for help."

"Really? Are you psychic or something?" Destiny snorted.

"You can say that. We know all that goes inside of this galaxy."

All of a sudden, the little girl with blue eyes and silk white hair jumped up from her seat and turned towards Destiny. "You have Polka-dot Nargles on your shoulders. They cause the person bearing them to feel extreme emotions of guilt."

"Oh... okay? Thank you for your information." Destiny frowned.

Lady Faith shook her head. "No, you've got it wrong, Hope honey. Purplekimp Triuses do that to a person, not the Polka-dot Nargles."

"Oh, sorry mum. I will try to remember next time." The little girl dazed off before tugging at Lady Faith's arms. "And mummy? Isn't today my birthday?"

"Why, yes it is, sunshine."

Hope frowned in concentration. "Can I get a present?"

Faith looked down at the girl pinched her pale cheeks. "What is it, sweetheart? What do you want for your birthday?"

"Mommy, I want a husband for my birthday."

Destiny began to cough and gag. She gave the Unworthy Ones a queer and perplexed look. She looked at the girl and analyzed what she had just said. _Mommy? Husband? _But how was this even possible? What was going on? Immortals weren't allowed to start families.

Lady Faith soothingly ran her hands through Lady Hope's white hair and started to braid it. Lady Hope placed her head in Faith's lap. "Not yet sweetheart. Let us do business with our guest first."

Hope pouted. "But I want a husband, NOW!" Her blue eyes glowed aquamarine.

"Now, now. Behave like a young lady. If you want, we can go hunting later."

"Can we go looking for Crumple-Horned Snorkacks on Earth tonight?" Little Lady Hope put on another, irresistible and adorable pout.

Lord Luck grinned and ruffled Hope's hair, making her braided hair a bit fuzzy. "Sure thing, princess. Whatever you say."

Destiny stuttered. "Um... is this... normal for you guys?" She had been warned that the Unworthy Ones were weird. But this was beyond her.

Lord Luck chuckled. "Our little girl likes to throw tantrums every now and then. Faith says we spoiled her too much. But I always fall for her cute little pouts."

Destiny squeaked, "Um... Okay."

Lord nodded his head and looked back at the girl. "Out of curiosity, who would you like to marry, my little princess?"

"Harry Potter Peverell Black Pendragon." The little girl huffed firmly, crossing her arms over her chest.

Destiny paled and felt light-headed. "Um, what?"

Lord Luck grinned. "That's really nice sweetheart. Now, why don't you go up to your room and sleep in for the night?"

Hope fumed. "I want a husband RIGHT THIS MOMENT!" Her hair turned a flaming ruby red.

Lady Faith got up and hugged the little girl firmly, dragging her out of the room. "Now, now, Hopester. We'll go looking for Snorkacks tonight. And, tell you what. We'll try to go to Saturn tomorrow to look for Whitesnout Gluns, okay little star?"

Hope huffed. "Okay. I guess. But then, I want a husband." Lady Faith disappeared with the angry girl right behind her.

Destiny couldn't help but blurt out, "Is she your daughter?"

Lord Luck stretched his feet across the couch, in a very informal manner. "Yes. Why do you ask?" His white eyes twinkled and sparkled with hints of silver and gold.

"Well, we immortals aren't allowed to sustain permanent relationships with others. And is Lady Faith your wife? How is that possible?"

Luck cleared his throat. "Who said I was a normal immortal?"

"Um... that doesn't prove anything."

"Yes, yes. You see, we are called the Unworthy Ones because we broke our magical contract with the Creators. We used to rule the entire universe alongside Lord Death, Lady Magic, and Lady Life. It was quite fun back then. Eons of making useless mortals and such.

Luck outstretched his hands in an overly-dramatic fashion. "And then. I met _her_."

Destiny furrowed her brows. "Who was she? Hope?"

Luck cringed. "No! Heavens, no. Hope is my biocosmical daughter, for Magic's sake! No. Why, I met Lady Faith, of course. She was as beautiful as the brightest star in the universe, and still is."

"But immortals aren't supposed to fall in love. It's our one major flaw."

"Ah, yes. So Faith and I had the classic case of forbidden and hopeless love. Throw in some forbidden sexy time and you get our lovely daughter, Hope."

Destiny gaped. "You. Had. Sex?"

Lord Luck chuckled. "Yes. And for this reason, we were demoted from being the most powerful aristocrats ever to exist to having the status of simple plebeians. We now live here, on Neptune, and watch over several parallel universes and alternate realities. In simple words, we are magical scientists. We are the immortal version of the Unspeakables. Hence, we are known as Unworthy Ones. Does that explain your questions? We happen to have a very bad reputation in the magical world, don't we."

Destiny rubbed her hands together. "Well that is true. Um... did you say that there are other universes and realities?"

"Yes. Why do you ask, young lady?"

Destiny seemed to be caught off guard. "I was under the impression that... well, we were the only ones who had ever ruled mortals. There are other mortals to rule? Other realms?"

"Yes, there are an infinite amount of realities, parallel universes, and dimensions to rule. Many immortals, like you, are sometimes _very_ ignorant." Lord Luck piped up heartily.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Destiny cocked her eyebrow.

"Well, you obvious don't know much about the immortal ruling realm. This solar system is like the many others just like it. This solar system is located inside of a galaxy, which is inside of a universe, which is part of larger universes. And so forth.

"Briefly, you should know that there are other replicas of this solar system on different planes, called alternate realms. But, instead of wizards and magic existing, there are other things or powers present. Such as humans with super strength, humans beings with the ability to shape-shift, humans with powerful creatures called Pokémon under their command.

"If you don't understand what I just said, go back to Mars and let Lord Time the concept of string theory to you. As for an example, you three have already created your own little parallel universe by bringing your Chosen One back into time. If you haven't already figured it out, your new reality's timeline is different from the previous one. **Each parallel universe and alternate reality affects another in some shape or form**."

"Okay. I get the part about alternate realities. But why else am I, like the many other immortal beings, being ignorant?"

"Well, you are oblivious to the destruction that is going on, on Earth right now, which is all due to your absence from Earth. Since you aren't guiding your Chosen, a very large imbalance between good and evil has sprung up. That's a biggie."

Destiny quirked an eyebrow. "Wh-what do you mean? And how do you know all this? I was under the impression that all was well... isn't Harry... okay?"

Luck's white eyes turned to a dismal gray. "Your Chosen is going down the wrong path. You have already wronged him once in your life by defying his destiny. Don't expect him to be as lucky as last time. Don't expect him to stay pro-Light. Your Chosen is undergoing a phase of depression. This will stunt the growth of his magical core, thereby limiting his powers as the Chosen One. He might even go dark, if not taught how to control his inner alter ego."

"He might go dark?" Destiny gaped. "Surely he won't do that. I mean... he's always done what's right for humanity."

Luck chuckled. "And how do you know his future? Am I not right to assume that he has no destiny, no fate, and no time restrictions as of now? He is free to do pretty much anything. And by anything, I mean _any_thing. How can you be so sure that he will not turn evil?"

"This is... horrible."

"Indeed it is." Luck conjured a cigar and took a puff.

"Are you guys willing to help me? Save my Chosen One, I mean?" She panicked a bit.

Luck nodded his head and banished the cigar. "Sure thing. You can count on us."

"Um... just like that? Nothing in exchange? No blackmailing? No rewards or souls in return for the help?"

Luck shook his head. "No. We are more than willing to help your Chosen."

"But why? There has to be some sort of ulterior motive."

Luck sighed. "Do you know what will happen if your Chosen is led into a path of darkness?"

Destiny flinched at the thought. "Um... no..."

"We. Go. Boom." Hope flicked his fingertips together.

Destiny frowned. "I... how?"

"The imbalance between good and evil will be too great. System entropy will increase. Lord Death will have to come here and destroy the world himself before too much damage is done."

Destiny bit her lip. "Oh, Magic. That's not good at all!"

"You bet it won't be. And if your Chosen does remain 'good' or on the 'Light side,' he will be too weak to face the Dark forces on Earth. The battle between Tom Riddle and Harry Potter would result in the creation of a dark hole or worm hole the size of Mercury, resulting in the obliteration of this solar system, maybe even most of the galaxy. And apparently, Lady Magic, Lord Death, and Lady Life are too busy to care about the damage that can be caused because of this."

"The entire galaxy?" Destiny exclaimed. "How?"

"Well, the worm hole would only increase as it ate up Mars. If you don't know already, there are tiny, microscopic wormholes scattered around the solar system.

"How are dark holes formed?" Destiny interrupted.

Luck clicked his tongue. "Well, there are many ways. One of the few ways of magically creating a hole would be by destroying an alternate reality. Every time a reality collapses, there is a sixty-eight percent chance of a black hole forming. Your little action where you destroyed the soul of Ginerva Weasley, and sent your Chosen back into time, is an example of this kind of magical pandemonium. Another occurs when massive amounts of raw magic collide."

"You mean our little action with Apocalypse destroying the old reality... created a black hole or whatever it's called?"

"Yes. Essentially, it's a magical vacuum. But nonetheless, there are many other theories.

"Anyhow, when any of the two worm holes or dark holes present in this solar system were to meet, the magic levels and entropy levels would increase exponentially. The holes would merge together and would continue to enlarge. And with each hole merging into the original, a massive new black hole would form. It would suck up, stretch out, and destroy everything in its path. It would take a while before Lady Life would be able stabilize the hole. By then, most of Milky Way Galaxy 32 would be obliterated."

"Why don't you just tell the Creators to stop this from happening in the first place?"

Luck grimly smiled. "Didn't I tell you already? Everyone's worst fear and flaw is their hubris. **Everyone is arrogant and ignorant, even immortals.** Lord Luck, Lady Magic, and Lady Life would never listen to any of our advice. We need to sort out our own problems."

"So... you are willing to help me? But how?"

"First, we must study your Chosen One. What are his skills. Abilities?"

Destiny frowned. "Um... he's the Conqueror of the Skies. He can summon lightning from the skies. He's a RunesCrafter, and on the road to becoming a RunesMaster."

Lord Luck snorted. "That's it?"

"It's not my fault that my Chosen only has certain abilities."

Lord Luck shook his head. "I know your Chosen better than you do. Did you not know that your Chosen is a Patronus Sage? A Battle Patroni Sage, as a matter of fact."

"Really?" Destiny perked up. "No, I didn't know that."

Luck rolled his eyes. "Ignorant, foolish immortals."

Destiny raised her eyebrows. "Um, well, excuse me Mr. Luck."

"Also, your child is ambidextrous, has the eye of Horus, and is multilingual."

Destiny frowned. "So? Does that mean anything?"

Lord Luck rubbed his chin. There were small strands of blonde chin hair. "Perhaps later on, they will mean something. But for now, let's focus on getting him to successfully cast a Patronus Charm. Perhaps, it is time that I gave him my blessing for better luck."

"Teach him the Patronus Charm? Why? Is there something special about his patronus?"

Luck grinned. "You bet there is. You see, a mortal wizard's base patronus is the one thing that the individual thinks will best protect him or her from danger. Harry Potter's base patronus is _you_, in your phoenix form."

* * *

"And before we get going, we need to perform one final task." At this Harry began to sweat profusely. His right eye twitched from nervousness. "Mr. Peverell Black, would you please come forth? It is time to sort you into your rightful house."

Headmaster Flamel began to clap politely as Harry got up from the Hufflepuff table and made his way forwards. A few others, like Draco, clapped for Harry while others leered at him with the slightest of curiosity.

"What's the point of sorting him?" Shouted Ronald Weasley. Every head turned towards the redhead Gryffindor. "We already know that he's a snake! Just put him in Slytherin."

Harry growled but decided to ignore the _little boy_. Headmaster Flamel tapped his wand against his drinking goblet. "Please refrain yourself, Mr. Weasley. 5 points from Gryffindor. Now, please come forth Mr. Peverell. Quickly now." Harry internally smirked at Ron's gob-smacked face. The headmaster hardly ever took points off of any student. Ronald quickly shut up and squirmed in his seat.

Harry bowed slightly in front of the sorting hat, much to everyone's curiosity. The hat on the stool chuckled at Harry's formality. Harry came forward and clutched the hat in both hands. Harry's arms shook slightly as he slowly lowered the Sorting Hat onto his head. He turned to face the students and finally sat down onto the stool.

'_Ah, Mr. Potter. Welcome back,' _ The dank, old hat spoke up. _'Thank you for your formality. Not many wizards have ever bowed as a formal greeting. A sign that you will do great things in life.'_

_'Yeah, whatever. Just get this over with. Please?'_

_'Hmm. Yes, of course. What's this? Oh my... you seem to have retained the characteristics of all four houses. You now qualify as a Hufflepuff, as well as a Gryffindor, a Slytherin, and a Ravenclaw. Superb! Traits of bravery, strength, ambition, courtesy, loyalty, and knowledge. Excellent! Marvelous! Would you prefer Gryffindor or Slytherin?'_

_'Oh you better not, you piece of shit! You listening to me, old hat?'_

_'I prefer that you call me Gerald.'_ The hat spoke back into the back of Harry's mind in a slightly amused tone.

_'Whatever, Gerald the Great Hat of Hats, please just sort me into Hufflepuff with Drake. That's all that I'm asking of you. Damn, can't you just... ugh!'_

_'Alas, do not worry. I was just messing with your head. Indeed, you belong in all four houses. You cannot be sorted into any of the present houses.'_

_'Where the HELL are you getting at, Gerald? Listen to me, right now. You are going to–'_

The hat forcibly cut off Harry's mental conversation and spoke out loud, "The boy has acquired the traits for all four houses. He belongs in all four houses, and yet, he belongs in none of them. Quite the paradox, if you ask me." The hat chuckled.

Harry groaned. He opened his eyes and immediately looked down at the ground, not wanting to see the faces of his audience. Whispers rippled through the sea of students in front of him.

"What do you suppose we do, Gerald?" Flamel bluntly asked. Harry continued looking at the floor.

_Please let me be normal for once_, Harry prayed, his heart still stuck in his throat.

"I suppose that we sort Harry Pot – I mean Peverell into the prestigious house of DRAGONFIST!"

"Oh come on!" Harry screamed, abruptly getting up from the stool. "Why couldn't you just fucking say Hufflepuff or something?"

"Language, Mr. Peverell!" Professor McGonagall scolded him. "Five points from... Dragonfist?"

Flamel shined his serene smile. "No need for that, Minerva. I give back those points. Please try to control your tongue next time."

Harry spluttered, blushed, and sat back down onto the stool, refusing to meet the gaze of the other Hogwarts students. "B-but-but-I-you-me-red-him...ugh! There's no such house. Is this some kind of sick joke, Gerald?"

The sorting hat chuckled croakily. "No. This house hasn't been used for centuries, and therefore no longer considered a part of the house system. The last person to be sorted into it was a descendent of Merlin." The noise level rose.

Flamel tapped his wand against his goblet. "Silence, please."

"But how come this house isn't in _Hogwarts: A History_?" Asked a Ravenclaw by the name Hugo Froster.

The hat continued to answer the questions. "You cannot expect every little secret to be in that textbook. Especially since history is written by the winners. Historians choose what to write about. The author may have chosen not to inform you about this, or may have not known about this.

"This fifth house is for those with a pure heart, a pure soul, and characteristics of all four founders."

A frustrated Hermione Granger shouted, "How can he have characteristics of all four houses if he called me a 'blood traitor'?" Several other Gryffindors agreed and eagerly awaited the hat's answer.

The hat chuckled. "What is this, pick on a Peverell day?" Harry grumbled hid his face in his arms. "Well, if you must know, I would say that it was _you_ who did the wronging, not Lord Peverell. His actions are completely justified. I have examined his mind thoroughly. He shows no signs of prejudice. And you might want to research your terminology. Why don't you go to the library, and look up the traditional definition of the word, 'blood traitor,' Ms. Granger?"

Hermione frowned. "But that can't be right. He obviously insulted me– "

"Please keep your opinions to yourself, Ms. Granger." The hat said in a stern tone, very contrary to his jocund mood. "If there is a single role model in this school, it would Mr. Harry Peverell Black."

Hermione huffed. "Well then, this school is obviously prejudice and –"

"Then leave!" The hat shouted, startling the staff and people in the front. "Please do not disgrace Gryffindor with your closed-mind thinking."

"I believe that is enough." Flamel got up and levitated the Sorting Hat towards the back room.

There was an awkward silence. People looked at Harry, then at the fuming Hermione, and then at the retreating form of the floating hat.

Flamel came back and cleared his throat. He checked his pocket watch and smacked his lips. "It is quite late. Now, I am not sure about how this house works exactly but since there is no dormitory as of now you–" Flamel's speech was interrupted by a blinding flash of light that erupted from the area directly in front of the staff table.

All of a sudden, Harry's black Hogwarts cloak began to change color. The black cotton transformed into a pure white silk cloth. Soon, the entire cloak was a noble white, striped with an elegant golden hue, the hems trimmed with a cyan color. Harry gaped as a small circular table materialized right in front of the staff table. A black flag with a red dragon inscribed within was raised right above the table.

Flamel was caught off guard but quickly recovered. "Well, have a nice night and a good weekend children. Off you go, to your dorms please." Flamel waved his hands and the grand entrance doors flew open. People remained on the spot, still gawking at Harry's robes. Flamel cleared his throat. "I said, OFF YOU GO, little children." Instantly, students began to rush out of the hall. Draco fumbled with his fingers, but in the end, followed his fellow Hufflepuffs to the dormitories.

Harry stayed glued on the spot. "You know what?" Harry mumbled to himself. "The second I meet Fate, I'm fucking her up. Really badly."

"Mr. Peverell, follow me into my office, if you will please?"

Harry tried to swallow, but his throat had gone dry. Nodding his head rapidly, he rushed after the headmaster. The two wizards took a shortcut towards the office.

"Coffee Beans," Flamel spoke clearly upon reaching the outside of the headmaster's office. The gargoyles moved out of the way, allowing the two to go up the spiral staircase. The headmaster walked around his office and promptly sat down on his desk.

"Have a seat," Flamel smiled.

Harry inhaled and exhaled repeatedly. Obliging, he sat across from the headmaster. "Um, why are we here sir?"

Flamel smiled. "Hogwarts, seal this room. Put up all possible privacy wards. Thank you." A golden light lit up the entire room.

Harry frowned as he _felt _several powerful wards go up into position. Being a RuneCrafter did have its advantages. "Um, sir? What are you doing? Why did you put up all of these wards?"

The headmaster chuckled. "You are very good at detecting raw ambient magic and wards. A good sign of a future RunesCrafter or Warder."

"Um, thank you sir."

"Please, call me Nick in private." The headmaster popped a toffee into his mouth. "You know, I am not very fond of these candies. Caramel toffees are very good, even more so than Albus's lemon drops. But I prefer snacks with high amounts of caffeine. Coffee is a great example."

"Um... sir?" Harry started to finger his wand. _Was this some sort of trap?_ "Why are we... here?"

"You know, you've made quite the impression on Hogwarts this year, Mr. Peverell." The old headmaster scratched his rust-red beard. He rubbed his temples before radiating off a grandfatherly smile. "Or should I say, Mr. Potter?"

* * *

A/N: Judge and come hither. Review and help the plot grow.

A/N/2: Most of this chapter is cliffhangers and mass packages of information. This is necessary for building up of latter parts of the story.


	13. The Diary

_**Disclaimer**_: Harry Potter and any such related characters/symbols/ideas/etc. are in direct correlation to J.K. Rowling as of the year 2011.

* * *

The Diary

Harry's eyes widened with shock. He quickly drew his wand and pointed it at Professor Flamel, ready to fight him if the need were to arise. The professor, however, remained seated and gave no signs of worry. "Perhaps, it would be best if you put your wand away, Harry. It would be unwise to strike a teacher, much less the headmaster."

"H-how do you know my real name, sir?" Harry's voice quavered, his wand hand trembling a bit. He felt insecure, yet at ease, knowing that someone else knew his true identity.

"You did not think that Mr. Sirius Black would have sent his godson to Hogwarts without informing me about the situation completely?"

"You know about . . . Sirius?" Harry's wand slipped out of his grip and clattered to the ground. Harry made no attempt to pick it back up.

Flamel kept his calm demeanor firmly. "Please have a seat, before you fall to the ground out of shock."

"Y-yes." Harry bit his lip and picked up his wand, cursing himself for being caught off guard. He looked back at the professor with a stony face.

"You know, if I were a random stranger off the street, I would have bet all my money that you are an accomplished Occlumens. Have you ever studied the Mind Arts, Harry?"

Harry frowned at the professor's casual tone. He seemed concerned for Harry, something that struck Harry as rare. "Um . . . no sir. I have been learning to gain control over my emotions. I haven't gotten much progress, if any at all."

The elder wizard nodded. "I would assume one such as yourself would want to learn to control his or her emotions, especially after the death of your godfather."

This time, Harry didn't flinch. He simply blinked his eyes, letting slip a tear or two. "Yes sir," he stated firmly.

"It is not wise to always bottle your emotions, but sometimes, it is very necessary. You are probably wondering how I know of your godfather, correct?"

"Yes sir." Harry moved his right index finger to brush aside the moistness forming in the corner of his eyes.

Flamel sympathized for the boy, but only slightly. "Harry, you are going to face dangers much worse than the death of your loved ones. You must overcome the past and continue with your future." At Harry's reluctant nod, the headmaster continued. "Mr. Sirius Black was a talented Unspeakable. He used to work for me in the late seventies, and into the very early eighties. He worked under my department. I was his boss. Do you follow so far?"

"Yes sir." Harry unconsciously put away his wand, sensing no danger.

"Unspeakables work under bosses, like myself, and research for different departments of the ministry. Your godfather worked as the co-director of the defense of the Ministry of Magic's Department of Mysteries. I was the head advisor of the defense mechanisms set up inside the Department of Mysteries.

"Unlike my fellow colleagues, I executed my job with care. Everyone who worked for me had to swear an Unbreakable Vow of loyalty to the Ministry before being admitted. Your godfather took an oath of never betraying the Ministry to any third-party sources, Voldemort included.

"When he was accused a Death Eater, I instantly knew it was a lie. I could understand if Unspeakable Nott had been accused, since he worked under a different boss. But Sirius Black, one of the most respected Unspeakables in my department? Never. If he had been captured, he would not have been questioned properly. Unspeakables have knowledge that is rated as top secret and cannot be revealed or exposed to anybody, not even other Ministry officials. For this reason, he would not have been given Veritaserum. He would have probably have been sent to Azkaban without a fair trial.

"I took responsibility over my fellow Unspeakable and helped him escape the Ministry's clutches. I cast the Fidelius charm on the Black manor, the very same one in which you grew up in. I became the Secret Keeper and aided in his survival. The Black manor became an especially convenient spot since it was well hidden from the Ministry, the Muggles, and the Black Wizards. In addition, when Sirius told me that he had found you, I knew that helping Sirius had been a godsend."

Harry was rendered speechless. "W-wow. Tha-thank you. For all that you did for my godfather." He looked at the professor in a light of respect.

"Yes, well you might expect how surprised I was to find a personal letter from him, asking me become your new magical guardian." Harry gasped. "Yes, I was asked to be your magical guardian over the summer. I wept for the first time in many years, that night. That day marked the death of a much esteemed Unspeakable and a true hero, one who had been wrongly shunned by the Wizarding World."

"So . . . you're my guardian?" Harry thought it odd to have a school teacher as a paternal figure.

"Well, you were emancipated in early August. Upon becoming Lord Peverell Black, you overrode my responsibility as guardian."

"Oh . . . okay? So . . . um . . . ." Harry ran a hand through his untamable black hair. "Shall I leave now?"

The headmaster smiled. "Ah . . . I remember when I was young, much like yourself. Is sleep all that I thought of? And females?"

Harry smiled. "I don't know, sir. Perhaps?"

"Well Harry, you cannot leave so soon. You just got here, no?"

"Erm . . . yes sir. Is there something you wanted to tell me?"

"Please call me Nick. Perhaps, Uncle Nick? All this 'sir' business is quite pathetic and makes me sound older than I really am."

"Okay, Uncle _Nick_?"

"Yes. Perfect. Now, as you may have already guessed, your life is full of much danger and excitement." Harry snorted and readily agreed. "Well, the real reason you have come to Hogwarts is to receive training from me."

"Training, sir?" At the headmaster's pointed glare, Harry flinched and corrected himself. "I mean, Uncle Nick."

"Yes, training Harry. You must know this by now, but I shall remind you. When you were just a toddler, you were chosen and marked by Voldemort. Have you ever wondered why he chose to kill you in particular? Think about it and tell me what you think."

Harry pondered Uncle Nick's question for a few moments. As a matter of fact, he had questioned Voldemort's actions before. He had always wondered why Voldemort had tried to kill him as a baby, and more importantly failed to kill him. "Um . . . because I was destined to, sir?"

Professor Flamel shook his head. "Perhaps, but no. You were chosen because of an absurd prophecy. Before you were born, it was prophesized that a particular boy would defeat the Dark Lord. You met the conditions of the so called, 'Chosen One.' Hence, you were hunted down and an attempt to take your life was made by Voldemort himself. Why he failed to do so, we still do not know for sure. There are theories, but no proven facts. Some wizards and witches think that you have special reserves of magic inside your core; using these special forms of magic, you were able to repel the powerful killing curse. Some, like dear old Dumbledore, think that your mother used an ancient charm and used her love to cast an impenetrable shield around you. Some think you are a Dark Lord in the horizon."

Harry snickered. Dark Lord on the horizon? Yeah right. "What about you sir? What is your opinion on this?"

Flamel looked up at the ceiling and sighed. "I am not so sure. I personally believe that Voldemort was holding his wand backwards and killed himself in haste, no offense to your magic or fame."

Harry grinned. "No offense taken, none at all. Quite frankly, I would agree."

"However, you are still a target, whether you are truly the Chosen One or not. Voldemort will come after you, even if are not the reason for his downfall. He fears you, and will try his best to eliminate you, if not recruit you."

"But isn't Voldemort dead, sir?"

"According to the magical gadgets and gizmos inside the Department of Mysteries: no, he is very much alive. He may not be completely human, but he is definitely active and on the hunt for Harry Potter. The Black Wizards knew this when they first began their raids and pointless murders, and await his return to this day."

"So . . . you are going to train me . . . to become your apprentice or something?"

"Not quite. **I shall train you to become your own person**." The professor scratched his long and unshaven rusty red beard and reached into one of the drawers built into his desk. Examining it carefully, he placed a blank green book onto the desk.

"What exactly is that, sir?" As the professor flipped through the blank book, Harry noted its unique characteristics. It had blank white pages, a green velvet cover, and a nifty rectangular box to write a name inside of.

"This is a diary, Harry." At Harry's questionable look, he added, "Every accomplished witch or wizard in history has kept a diary. This diary shall not be used as a normal diary, but rather used to record important things inside of. You shall comprehend everything that I will teach and write down everything that seems significant inside this diary. In addition, if you experience weird phenomena, you shall record them in here. This diary can be locked with a password. It is yours to keep."

Harry cautiously took the green book in his hand. He shuddered at the feel of the soft cover. He looked up at the professor. "Um . . . can I write about personal things?"

The elder man shrugged. "I do not care what you do with your diary. Once again, I will teach you to become your own individual, not someone that I want you to become. It is up to you. I shall only give you suggestions. **Everyone is entitled to opinions, not everyone is entitled to experience**."

"Um . . . do _you_ have a diary, Uncle Nick?" Harry looked up at his new mentor as he placed the diary into one of the inner pockets inside his white cloak.

The old man chuckled. "Lesson one, Harry: never reveal your diary to _anyone_. Do not show it to any person, unless you trust him or her with your _life_. If I did have a diary, I wouldn't show you or even tell you about it. But since this is all part of the lesson, I shall tell you this much: I have kept a diary since I was nine. So you can imagine how humongous it is at this point. The diary that I have given you can be magically expanded. New pages can be added and compressed."

"Is your diary, by any chance, red?" Harry couldn't help but feel very laid-back around Uncle Nick.

"How did you guess, Harry? That is quite clever and observant of you. Well, I must get going. If you have any questions about you being placed in Dragonfist, consult the Sorting Hat." Headmaster Flamel pointed towards the hat placed atop a bookshelf and was about to exit the office when he caught the befuddled expression on Harry's face. "Is something wrong, Harry?"

"You're just going to leave me inside your office? Just like that?"

"Yes, Harry. I trust that you shall not go through any of the personal belongings inside my office. Anything else, Harry?"

Harry fumbled with the digits on his hands. "Um . . . tomorrow is October 1st, sir. And I haven't picked my clubs or teams yet. I didn't know about them until this evening. Perhaps you can help me decide?"

"No problem. I will select the clubs that I believe shall help you in our training. No need to fret. Have a good night." Harry watched as the professor calmly strode out of the office, leaving him alone inside of the roomy office.

Harry reluctantly approached the sorting hat. "Um . . . Sorting Hat?" At the lack of the response, Harry decided to be formal. "Um . . . Sir Gregor, the Great Hat of Noble Hats?"

A small smile appeared in between the wrinkles and creases in the pointed black hat. "Hello, there Mr. Potter. You are here for advice, I presume?"

"Yes, Gregor. Well, firstly, where do I go to sleep? Are there any Dragonfist dormitories that I do not know about?"

"Well Mr. Peverell, as a member of the Dragonfist house, you are granted free access to all parts of the Hogwarts castle. Dragonfists are noted to be very responsible and honest leaders. For this reason, you can roam around the castle without penalty, whenever and wherever your heart fancies. There is no curfew for Dragonfist students and certainly no house restraints."

"So . . . I can sleep in the Gryffindor _and_ the Slytherin girls' common room and get away with it?"

"Yes Mr. Black, essentially, you are correct. But, that would be considered misusing your privileges."

"Wait, what about Quidditch? Does this mean I can't play Quidditch?"

"Quidditch is a sport that only the four primary houses can join in on. The Dragonfist house has never partaken in it and probably never will. There are, however, several Dragonfist trophies scattered throughout the Trophy room. The Dragonfist House has upheld a very high esteem for dueling and always partakes in Dueling tournaments. At its peak, the Dragonfist Dueling Team was a force to be reckoned with and always had a flawless win-loss record. As for house points, they simply do not exist. You may participate in other houses' Quidditch matches, if you would like. Is that all, Lord Pendragon?"

Harry frowned. "Um . . . why do keep calling me different names?"

The sorting hat smiled. "If there are no more questions, then you should get going. It is quite late. Sleep well, young sage." This only left Harry even more clueless.

Exiting the headmaster's office, Harry began walking towards the Hufflepuff dormitory. Every so often, he would catch sight of a portrait staring at him. One portrait, of a young woman with a baby in its arms, had blessed him and wished him luck. Was everyone around this place crazy?

Upon reaching the Hufflepuff dormitory entrance, he examined the door. It was locked with a password. Unfortunately, the sorting hat hadn't told him how he was to enter other dormitories.

"Um . . ." Harry bit the side of his tongue. "Open sesame! Uh . . . abracadabra! Erm . . . the magic word is please?" Harry slumped against the door, clearly unable to understand how he would go about opening it. Getting a random idea, he stood up and placed his hand on the entrance door. Keeping the sweaty palm of his right hand on the door, he spoke to the castle. "I, Harry James Peverell Black, member of the Dragonfist house, demand entrance." Almost immediately, the door shimmered away and a wide gap between him and the Hufflepuff common appeared. The few Hufflepuff students inside the common rooms looked up at the stranger and quickly drew their wands. Harry walked inside, revealing his face to the people inside.

"What the hell are you doing here, Peverell?" A tall, lanky, and lean boy stalked forwards, his wand arm outstretched and pointed in Harry's direction. The boy had brown hair, light skin, and gray eyes.

"Um . . . I needed to get some sleep, you know? And I decided to sleep in the Hufflepuff dorms for the night, if that's alright with you?"

The boy gave Harry a questioning look before lowering his wand and offering his hand. "The name's Cedric Diggory. It's nice to meet you, Peverell."

Harry smiled at the prospect of making new friends. He could see the other boy's genuine offer of friendship. "Call me Harry. All this lord and Peverell Black business is too formal."

"Are you sure, Ced?" One of the elder fourth-year boys gave Harry a scathing look. "He looks suspicious to me."

Cedric rolled his eyes and led Harry to one of the couches inside the middle of the common room. "Ignore them. They're all wanker. So, congrats on finally getting sorted in." Harry looked around and noted a few girls leering at Cedric. If Harry could describe Cedric in one word without being homosexual, he would describe him as handsome.

"Thanks. Say, have you seen Draco?" Cedric tensed but shrugged.

"I haven't seen him. Must be his time of the month."

Harry frowned. "Um . . . what?"

Cedric shrugged. "He went out. Not here today. So, how's Hogwarts so far?"

"Okay, I suppose." Harry was getting uncomfortable from the stares all around him. "Is there an empty bed here or something? I need a place to stay."

Cedric perked up and smiled. "Yeah, sure. I'm in fourth year, by the way. One of my mates had to leave Hogwarts over the summer. You can move in and sleep in the vacant bed there, if you'd like."

"Sure. Anything to get away from all these stares." Cedric led Harry up a circular stone staircase.

Cedric cleared up a bed, magically wiping away the accumulated dust and grime from the framework. "Here it is. Enjoy your night. See you tomorrow, Harry." Cedric stalked over towards the built-in dorm bathroom.

That night, Harry slept at peace, no worries or problems. But he had a strange dream. Very peculiar. One that he would record in his new diary the very next thing in the morning.

_Harry was sitting on wet grass. His calves were exposed to the light rain that was rushing down from the skies onto the earth below. Harry looked around and found the prairie that he was in to be empty. There were no signs of life. At best, there was a tall, old oak tree situated a few miles to the north._

_Suddenly, Harry heard chirping. He looked to either side and frowned. He looked up at the sky and saw a black dot in the distance. After a few moments, the black dot became larger and a bird came into view._

_It was a dark navy blue bird. Its crown was red and its eyes strikingly green, flashing yellow every now and then. It had long tail feathers. Harry gasped, or at least opened his mouth to gasp, as he recognized the phoenix to be Aurora._

_The bird landed next to him and transformed into a beautiful brunette with yellow eyes. "Hello, Harry. How have you been?"_

_Harry's eyes moistened. He tried to speak to the magical guardian, his once familiar. He opened his mouth, but could not speak._

_"Shh!" The woman wiped away the tears from Harry's eyes. "Do not cry." She embraced him, as he cried into her chest. She stroked his back. "I've missed you, my Harry. Come back to me. Make me come back to you."_

_Harry pulled back. He tried to open his mouth, as if to ask, "How?"_

_The woman smiled a sad smile. "_Expecto Patronum_, my dear. _Expecto Patronum_."_

Harry woke up the next morning, his pillow wet with fresh tears. He looked around and noticed that he was inside of a dormitory that was decorated in yellow and black. He noticed that he had been crying in his sleep and quickly wiped away the wetness from his red eyes. Climbing out, he made his way towards the bathroom to wash his face. After thoroughly cleaning up, he took out his diary and began to jot down the major details from his dream, vowing to ask Uncle Nick about what it could have meant.

Could he really bring Aurora back? Or was this some sort of trick? Was his consciousness toying with Harry's feelings? Harry sighed and went down to have breakfast. He was eager to meet up with Cedric and Drake.

* * *

"Tom, you do not have to do this. Please, let me go." Dumbledore struggled against the invisible ropes around his limbs. "You do not have to do this. There is still hope for you."

The disfigured body of Tom Riddle shook as Voldemort cackled. "There is still hope for _me_, Dumbledore? Are you really that daft? Stupid muggle-loving old man, when will you learn? When will you understand that I am beyond redemption! I do not _need_ redemption, old fool! I am Lord Voldemort, the greatest wizard to ever live! _Crucio_!" A maroon spell erupted from Voldemort's wand and struck Dumbledore on his back.

Dumbledore felt hot blood ooze out from his back. He closed his eyes and actually let out a wholehearted sob. He had not cried in years. He hadn't cried since the death of his sister. But he could no longer hold it in. All the years of pain, emotional buildup, stress, and sorrow flowed out from Dumbledore's sore eyes. Voldemort sneered and drawled the curse for longer than was needed, taking in the sounds of Dumbledore's excruciating pain with pleasure.

_Where am I? _Dumbledore could no longer speak. His jaws were jammed together. Moving them would result in another source of torture. _Is this perhaps a new Death Eater base inside Ukraine? Or is it in Germany? Will the Order be able to locate me? Perhaps, it's under the Fidelius Charm. Is that why I am still being held prisoner? Is that why I have not been rescued yet?_

Voldemort screeched with amusement. "No Dumbledore, we are _not_ in the Ukraine, nor are we in Germany. Can you think of no place? Can you not think of a place where I am in total control and where you, the great Dumbledore, are my _slave_?"

Dumbledore felt a bit queasy and dizzy as he tried to think. Why could he no longer think? What kind of magic was this? He cried out in pain as he tried to think. But he could not think. The great Dumbledore could not think.

Voldemort circled Dumbledore's limp body, admiring his handiwork with delight. "This is a place where no other has gone before. This is a place that has _never_ been conquered by ordinary men. But I, Lord Voldemort, am _not _ordinary. **I**, the greatest dark lord and wizard of all history, **have conquered the human mind!** Ha! I have done the impossible, Dumbly! I win! I always win!" Voldemort sneered and began to laugh hysterically.

"Oh, Merlin." Dumbledore croaked before fainting from the superfluous loss of blood from his back.

Dumbledore was trapped inside his own mind. He was not in control of his own body. Voldemort was.

* * *

Katie Bell sighed. She sat up on top of her soft bed and looked around. Her fellow dorm mates had already gone downstairs to eat. Katie flipped onto her stomach and plopped her chin atop both of her clenched hands.

For so long, she had longed to meet her future mate. When she had been seven, her parents had informed her about her heritage and about the supposed betrothal contract to Lord Peverell. At first, she had been angry at having to be forced to marry a random boy at such a young age. But as she had neared age eleven, she had become very anxious to meet her mate.

But in her first year, she did not get the chance to meet him. She had been put down, her Veela instinct disappointed gravely. But she had waited for her bond mate in her second year. But still, he had not shown up to Hogwarts. She had begun to worry. She had begun to worry for her future.

But then, all that had changed last summer, when she had gotten herself captured by Malfoy. Just when she had lost all hope, Raiden had shown up and saved her life. Raiden had come to save her when she had been in need. Her savior had _not_ been Lord Peverell. It had been Raiden.

And this year, she had seen Lord Peverell for the first time. He had turned out to be a great disappointment. Apparently, he had befriended a Pureblood fanatic, acted too fresh for his own good, and had yet to strike a conversation with her. It was almost as if he didn't have the slightest care for her. Did he not love her? Did he not care for her? Why did her future mate not show any affection?

Yet, Raiden had shown her affection. He had _kissed_ her. He had vowed to protect her, placing her household under his protection. Lately, she had begun to question her unwavering loyalty towards her future bond mate. Lately, she had been thinking less and less about Lord Peverell and more and more about Raiden.

To her, Raiden was an affectionate, kind, bold, courteous, handsome, and naïve young man who always did selfless acts for others. Lord Peverell, on the contrary, was a selfish, self-conceited, and mysterious young teenager who showed little tender and care for others. Where she imagined Peverell to be strutting down hallways, Katie always imagined Raiden to be gracefully walking across.

Katie buried her head in her hands. What was she going to do? Her parents would scold her and tell her to be a good bond mate. They would force her onto Lord Peverell no matter what. She didn't dare approach Lord Peverell and voice her concerns. She needed somebody to talk to. Katie Bell needed advice. But who would she ask?

Did she love Lord Peverell Black? What was love? Because according to Katie's definition of love, Katie was in love with Raiden, not Lord Peverell.

* * *

Harry walked into the Great Hall. His guitar was strung across Harry's back as usual, the Half-Blood Prince's potions book was securely placed in his right pocket, and his new diary was in his left pocket.

He tried to be as discreet as possible as he made his way towards Draco. However, someone must have noticed his elegant white Hogwarts robes. Soon, everyone was back to staring at Harry. Ignoring the special Dragonfist round table in front of the staff table, he sat down right next to Draco and motioned for Cedric to come over as well.

"Hey there, Drake. I didn't see you last night. Where were you?" Harry settled down and began his breakfast with a gulp of orange juice. Cedric saw Harry and waved from the other end of the Hufflepuff table. The older boy picked himself up and made his way towards the two cousins.

"I was . . . err . . . sick. I had to go to the infirmary." Draco mumbled as he bit into his corn muffin. His dull and tired light gray eyes drooped every few seconds.

"Hey, you alright there, Drake? You don't look so good." Harry frowned and began to study Draco's face. "It looks as if you need to stay in the infirmary a bit longer."

Draco shrugged off my concerns. "So . . . I heard you slept in the Hufflepuff dorms last night. Is that a new privilege all Dragonfist students have?"

"Are you sure you're alright? You should get some rest. Go to Madame Pomfrey."

"I'm fine, Harry." He wiped his face with a napkin. Cedric finally reached the two and took a seat directly in front of Harry. "Are you going to introduce me to the new guy, Harry?"

"Hmm," Harry gulped down his oatmeal before responding. "Oh yeah. Draco, this is Cedric Diggory. Cedric, meet Draco Black, formerly Malfoy."

"Hey," Cedric reached his arm across the table and shook hands with Draco. The Hufflepuff students stared at the new friends with profound curiosity. "It's nice to meet you."

There was an awkward pause in the conversation. Harry looked at Cedric, and then at Draco. "So . . . what clubs and teams did you guys join?"

Cedric perked up. "Quidditch team, homework club, and sex ed."

Draco drowsily yawned. "Um . . . I joined Debate Team last year. I'm still on it. And . . . I'm on the homework club. What about you?"

Harry frowned. "I dunno. I asked Uncle Nick to pick them for me."

"Uncle Nick? Who the hell is Uncle Nick mate?" Cedric asked, shuffling through his knapsack.

"Er . . . I meant headmaster Flamel."

"You're related to the headmaster?" Cedric gawked and shook his head in amusement. "No wonder you get special treatment."

"Well, we're not really related. He's just my mentor in a sense. I have private lessons with him."

Draco looked up at Harry and frowned. "Private lessons? Wow . . . that's brilliant I suppose. Good luck, though. I heard he's a tough teacher. He taught Potions for a few weeks last year, and it was a bloody nightmare!"

"Oh, I remember that." Cedric gave an involuntary shudder. "He's a brilliant potioneer, though. Flamel's really tough, but brilliant." Cedric sympathized for Harry. "So, any of you guys planning on trying out for the Quidditch team?

Harry looked over at the staff table and saw Uncle Nick talking with Professor McGonagall. Upon catching Harry's stare, the headmaster gestured him forwards. "Guys, I'll be right back."

"Yeah, sure thing." Cedric nodded and turned towards Draco. "So Draco, have you thought about joining the Quidditch team? You look like a brilliant Keeper material to me."

"I don't know. Maybe . . . but I don't have a broom yet and . . . ." Draco and Cedric began to chat animatedly about something they were both very fond of – Quidditch.

Harry gulped down his glass of milk and set it down onto the long table before getting up and making his way towards the staff table. He looked up at Uncle Nick. "Um . . . you wanted to see me, Uncle Nick?"

Professor McGonagall began to choke on her egg and cheese sandwich and looked down at Harry with a look of shock. The headmaster smiled and procured a single parchment. He handed it to Harry. "Here is the list of clubs and teams that I have signed you up for. These will help with our lessons. Our next lesson will be this Friday. Please continue to practice writing in your diary and begin revising first-year material. As for your lessons, you may tag along with Draco since there is no indicated schedule for Dragonfist students. Okay, Harry?"

"Yes, sir . . . I mean, Uncle Nick." Harry nodded and returned to sit with Cedric and Draco.

The Transfiguration teacher raised her wand and quickly cast a silencing charm before turning towards the headmaster. "Uncle _Nick_? What are you doing to the boy, Nicholas? You are spoiling him!" The transfiguration teacher hissed. "And am I to assume that you are going to give him private lessons?"

The headmaster replied without the slightest hint of alarm. "Yes, Minerva. I shall be checking up on his first-year material and teaching him some advanced material. And, no, I am not spoiling him. I shall never favor students over others."

McGonagall narrowed her eyes. "I demand that you call off these private lessons, Nicholas! Just because the boy is Lord Peverell Black and is in this so-called House of Dragonfist does _not _mean that he will receive any special treatment! Not from me, he won't!"

The headmaster sighed. "You are being prejudice, Minerva. Just because he is from the Black family does not mean that he is a Pureblood fanatic. You heard the sorting hat. He is a role model. I intend to keep it that way. I do not care if you favor students or not. I will continue to educate my prodigy. He is need of a mentor, and I shall serve as one."

Professor McGonagall wrinkled her nose. "If I catch complaints from any of my students, even one complaint, I will have him expelled! School is not a joke! Money can't buy grades, Nicholas."

"I am not doing this for money. I am doing this for your own good, for the well-being of the world. You shall understand soon enough." Minerva huffed and canceled the silencing charm.

Harry frowned as he reread the parchment that Uncle Nick had given him. He handed it to his two Hufflepuff friends in a daze.

"You're on all of these teams _and _clubs?" Draco asked incredulously as he handed the parchment to Cedric. "That's insane!"

Cedric frowned and did a double-take at Harry's program card. "Um . . . Harry? I don't know if I read this properly . . . but are you in the Runes club, the Homework Club, the _Debate _Team, _and_ the Dueling Team?"

Harry scratched the corners of his mouth. "Um . . . yeah?"

Cedric grinned. "Oh, just checking to make sure."

A bell gong echoed throughout the castle, signaling that there were only ten minutes left before first period. Students began to clean up and started filing out of the Great Hall. "See you guys later. I have Herbology now. Catch you at lunch and dinner."

Harry nodded and followed Draco towards Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

* * *

A/N/1: As some of you pointed out, Harry was acting too fresh and out of his original personality? Well, he's _not _a punk. I mean, he lost Aurora (which is the closest thing that he had to a mother) and Sirius (closest thing to a father) in a span of a few days. He's extremely emotional and is covering this up by acting 'cool.' He'll be able to control his emotions soon.

A/N/2: Thanks to **loot** and **WhiteElfElder** for extremely good feedback (PMs). Please continue to send feedback. So, review please.

A/N/3: Thanks to . . . cah11, ceo55, loot, Zicou, gaul1, Aaron Leach, Lepton, harlequin320, Hanzo of the Salamander, wizmage, hpnut, WolfWings-MoonNight, Zaralann, Sweet Heavens, WhiteElfElder, god of all, Goldencoyote. Reviews are appreciated. (P.S. I tried to change my writing style. Is there a difference? Is it easier to read? Thanks.)


	14. Halloween Horrors

_Disclaimer_: See Chapter 1. Chapter 14 updated 3-26-11

* * *

Halloween Horrors

Harry wiped the sweat from his forehead and sighed audibly. He looked back at his mentor with reluctance. "You may have a seat now." Instantly, Harry collapsed into the lavish black chair positioned to the right of him. "You have shown excellence in your spell-casting. Tell me, have you ever used any of these first-year spells in real life before?"

Harry stifled a yawn in front of the headmaster and nodded distractedly. "Yes, I used the levitation charm on myself. I was able to hover above the ground for a certain period of time."

"I see." For almost a month now, Harry had been attending lessons twice a week. The two wizards, mentor and apprentice, would meet in front of the Room of Requirement at promptly five o'clock in the evenings on Wednesdays and Fridays and have a one-on-one lesson. So far, the headmaster had only reviewed first-year material with Harry.

"Well Harry, I think that all of the assessment that we've been doing for the past few weeks will eventually pay off. Lesson seven: it doesn't hurt to start with the basics. But remember Harry; although your efforts were focused . . . ?"

"There is always room for more improvement. Yes, I get it." Harry grimly scribbled down the important things from the day into his diary. His gaze lingered a bit on the section of personal entries. He hesitantly looked back at the headmaster. His back was aching from having to stand up for an hour straight. "Is that all for today?"

Flamel looked at his watch. "We still have half-an-hour before seven. Let's continue and start with lesson eight. But you may remain seated for this part of the lesson.

"Let's suppose that you are in enemy territory. You have gotten past all of the sentries and guards. You are standing across from a door. On the other side of the door is very confidential information regarding the enemy's future plans. You need to acquire these plans at all costs. However, you also know that there are probably enemies stationed directly behind the door, waiting to ambush you. If the sign on the door says, 'Pull to open'; what do you do? What is the most efficient way to going about doing this?"

Harry frowned and thought about the logical scenario question of the day. He bit his lip as he forced himself to focus on the given situation. Not able to find a solution right away, Harry closed his eyes and began to scour his mind for possibilities, just like Uncle Nickel had taught him to.

Flamel patiently watched Harry meditate to himself. After a few minutes, Harry gave a desperate glance at his teacher. Sometimes, it was best to do the obvious. "Um . . . you pull the door, duck, and try your luck?" Harry shrugged. "I'm not really sure, sir."

"Nice try. However, you are incorrect." Harry nodded and adeptly perked up his ears to absorb his mentor's logic. "If you pull the door, you will lose a bit of ground. In addition, you lose the element of surprise. The best way to go about doing this would be by doing the unusual. Simply put, this is lesson eight: if you push hard enough, the door will open regardless."

Inevitable confusion dawned upon Harry's face. "But wait . . . isn't that going to break the door? And it would take up a bit of your magic to blast the door aside. That doesn't sound too efficient."

"_But_," Flamel flicked his wand in the air to empathize his point, "by blasting the door, you will be able to knock back the enemies directly behind the door. In addition, you will gain ground quickly. Essentially, you are using the environment to do some of the dirty work for you."

Harry furrowed his brows. "You are using up magical energy to destroy the door. Why not conserve this energy and use it to effectively stun the enemies? You can use a sticking charm on your shoes, use an invisibility cloak, and sidle your way in somehow."

The headmaster nodded. "That is creative but there is a chance of failure. Let me put it this way: when you push your magical energy into the door to break it, it will multiply into kinetic energy. This kinetic energy will impart through the enemy's main defense in all directions in the form of heat, sound, and etcetera. The sound waves will be enough to distract the enemies and catch them off guard. The blast itself will knock away at least a few foes. They will also be forced to defend themselves for a few seconds, buying you some time to rapidly infiltrate and gain ground."

Harry craned his neck sideways. "You lost me after the word 'kinetic' sir. I'm not sure where you're getting at sir."

The headmaster sighed. "That's quite alright. It seems that your logic is very weak."

Harry frowned. "But sir –"

"No, Harry. Accept that you are not perfect. You are not a logical person. I am not saying that your reasoning skills are atrocious. I'm just stating the facts. There is definitely room for improvement. That is all." Upon seeing the dejected look on Harry's face, the headmaster added, "Relax, Harry. You will get better, I assure you."

"Right . . . sir." Harry disliked all the unnecessary and arduous tasks that his mentor was forcing upon him, but he grudgingly accepted everything. Harry had never really liked logic anyways. He had solely relied upon instinct and luck. It had always seemed to work for Harry. But it was probably a good idea to listen to his mentor.

"It is vital that you continue working hard on school work and focusing on the little tricks I've taught you so far this semester. Next month, lessons will be every week. We shall go more into detail on strategic planning and logical reasoning. If you don't any further questions, you may leave."

_Questions?_ Harry bit the tip of his tongue. If his mentor had asked him whether he had any question a month ago, Harry would have readily said no. But now . . . Harry truly did have questions.

Harry looked at the green diary in his hands and flipped to the last few pages. He bit his lip and focused on his personal entries. He pondered on whether to tell his mentor about his dreams or not.

Lately, he had been having a lot of _strange_ dreams. They were always the same recurring dreams. At first, the dreams had seemed quite normal. After a few days, Harry thought that his mind was just playing dirty tricks on him. Very _dirty _tricks, pun _maybe_ intended.

But now, he would dream of Aurora every other night. And he would usually wake up with his pillow soaked with tears the very next morning. And other times, he would dream about a blonde girl with blue eyes snogging the shizzle out of him. And the mornings following his dream sequence, he would wake up in wet sheets with a very uncomfortable lump in his pajamas.

These dreams were no longer a coincidence. These dreams were an _embarrassment_ to Harry's self-control! Not that he had any self-control to begin with, but still. . . .

He had had these dreams so frequently that he practically knew both of them by heart now. He remembered his wet dream about a certain blonde girl quite vividly. After all, it was quite memorable.

_A blond girl with blue eyes smiled before grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. Within seconds, she was dominating his mouth. Her tongue slithered through his, embracing the insides of his cheeks._

"Dreams, Harry?" The older man asked aloud, bringing Harry out of his thoughts.

Harry quickly looked up and felt himself redden. "Si-sir?" Was everyone around here psychic? "How did you know about my dreams?"

"I am a Pathosage, Harry. I can detect raw feelings and pick up streams of stray thoughts with much ease." That didn't explain shiznit.

"You were reading my mind?" Harry scowled. "Did you see anything that was –" _Inappropriate_. Harry smacked his cranium and brushed the palm of his hand down across his face in shame. _Better not have._

"Don't worry Harry. I didn't see any of your dreams." Harry sighed with relief. "And no Harry, I was not reading your mind. I couldn't help but pick up your stream of thoughts. You see, one's subconscious is not completely part of the human mind. An individual cannot control his or her own subconscious. This area just outside one's mind is abstract and often where lucid feelings and raw emotions swirl around like tadpoles circling their own tails in pond water. It can be detected by sages, like myself, but never manipulated completely. I assure you that I was not intentionally trying to look into your mind. It just randomly popped up while I was studying your next move."

"What are sages?" Harry warily sat back on the polished wooden floor, feeling the color in his face return to normal.

"Sages are very much like mages. Mages and sages have almost equivalent power levels and are both very proficient when it comes with dealing with magic. However, a mage has slightly larger reserves inside of his or her magical core than a sage does. A mage is very powerful and able to conjure humungous amounts of raw magic from his or her core for a variety of spell casting.

"Mages can overpower spells but often lose battles to sages due to lack of endurance. Sages, although not able to draw such great amounts of magic, have much more magical stamina and usually specialize in one particular area. Sages can manipulate certain aspects of magic. Pathosages, or pathos-sages, like me specialize in the magic of the emotions. Pathosages can use emotions to manipulate their foes. There is a sage for almost everything."

"So, is there such thing as a Lumos sage?"

"Hypothetically, yes there might be. However, sages are very rare. Were one to exist, a Lumos sage would most likely be able to produce a lumos charm and do a number of things with this simplistic charm. The sage would be able to control the color of the light, manipulate the saturation of the light core, adjust the heat intensity of the light, and even direct how light waves reflect off of it. Lumos sages might even possibly be able to manipulate light to apparate at the speed of light, or in another words, teleport."

"That sounds pretty darn wicked." Harry grinned with thrill, his previous worry about dreams all forgotten. "How do you become a sage?"

Flamel sighed. "You cannot become a sage or a mage by studying a subject. You must be born a sage or a mage. However, by practicing, you can become just as magically skillful as a mage or sage."

A random idea popped inside of Harry's head. Without second's thought, Harry blurted out the question. It was an odd question. It was a question that does not pop into an average second-year Hogwarts student's mind often. "So there might be Patronus sage somewhere in the world?"

Flamel furrowed his brows. "A Patronus sage, Harry? Why, I doubt that such a sage would ever exist. Perhaps in a million millennia, one might come into existence, but that is highly improbable. A sage is born every few hundred years, and powerful sages every few hundred millennia. I might possibly be the only sage alive today.

"However, let's get back on topic. Would you share your thoughts on your dreams? When I caught a glimpse of your raw emotions, I sensed a longing for something."

Harry faced the older professor and gulped. "Can we not talk about my private dreams, sir? Please? They're kind of . . . awkward."

The older man bobbed his head. "I understand. However, if something is bothering you, feel free to talk to me about it. I am not only your mentor, but your counselor in every way possible."

Harry reached inside of his cloak and brought out the Half-Blood Prince's potions textbook. The book had been bothering him ever since he had picked it up from the Potions classroom in the beginning of the year. Maybe the book was the reason behind all these weird dreams. If so, it was imperative that he get rid of it. He didn't like having wet dreams every other day. It was a distraction to his daily routine.

"Um . . . sir. I do have this book. I actually found it in my Potions classroom. And I've been studying it for quite a while now."

"May I please see it please?" Harry looked a tad bit reluctant to hand over the book. "I assure you that I will not confiscate it. I simply want to check it for any jinxes." Harry handed over the battered-up textbook for inspection.

"Um . . . well . . . I've been using it study and improve my grades and such. But ever since I've come into possession of it, I've been having these odd recurring dreams. And there are often moments that I have these flashbacks. And these weird flashbacks are about things that I don't even remember. Maybe the dreams are linked to this book."

Flamel looked through the potions book and handed it back. "It is not jinxed or cursed. The flashbacks and the book most likely have no correlation whatsoever. However, this book does contain some gray magic."

Harry cringed. "Should I stop using it then?"

Flamel shook his head. "Not at all. I will not tell you to stop using it. I will just advise that you proceed with caution. I trust your judgment. If things do get out of hand, I shall temporarily seize it. Other than that, I commend you for doing out-of-school research. This book is actually quite convenient for spell construction. Study that section in particular and learn from the book. Put it to good use. This annotated book is quite useful. I also suggest that you share this knowledge with your friends."

"Do you know who the Half-Blood prince might be?"

"I'm afraid I do not know. Now if you have no further questions, you are dismissed. I believe that Runes club will be starting in just a few minutes."

Harry got up and dusted his trousers. "I should really get going. See you at the feast, sir."

OoOoO

Harry stepped out of the Room of Requirement and watched the door behind him dissolve into the blank wall. The seventh floor hall around him was deserted as always. Harry approached the moving staircase located eastward and descended the stairs as quickly as possible. Upon reaching the sixth floor, he looked around for the room 6B.

Harry looked at a clock mounted atop a portrait on the wall and silently cursed him upon reading the indicated time. The clock read 7:03. Harry swiftly sprinted down the long hallway and pushed his way through a pair of double swinging doors.

Upon entering the small sixth floor room, Harry felt all eyes on him. For one thing, he was late to the club meet. For another, his white Hogwarts cloak was very prominent amongst the masses of black cloaks.

The student tables were situated around the middle of the room in a large circle. The teacher's table was located in the middle of the small room. The only vacant seat was on the far right of the room, located towards the back.

"You are late again, Mr. Peverell," said the club advisor Professor Babbling. "Please refrain from being late every time we have a club meeting."

"Sorry, professor," Harry meekly apologized.

"Please take a seat and right to work. We are working on the runic alphabet. You can study any of the runes presented on the board. You can study Celtic runes, Norse runes, Medieval runes, or even Greek runes. Just make sure to study and master that specific runic alphabet by the next meet. Unlike last week, you have to construct an entire sentence and not just a single word in Runes."

Harry nodded and automatically walked over to the only empty seat available. He took the seat next to a girl with blonde hair. He opened his runic quill set and placed it on the wooden desk without even looking at his partner. The professor began to write meaningless information on the blackboard and droned on about the mechanics of formulating sentences with runes in general.

Harry squinted his eyes and read the different runic alphabets off of the board. He frowned. This was beginner level work. It was all much too easy for him. He already had all of these memorized by heart.

Harry decided to put the next half-hour to good use. He pulled out the Half-Blood Prince's potion's book and turned to the back of it. He traced his finger to a passage written in ink. It was written by the Half-Blood prince himself. The passage included instructions on how to enhance spell casting. Uncle Nickel had suggested that he study it. He would do exactly that.

_Magic is powered by intent. It is not like science. It does not require the splitting of an atom to create massive amounts of magical energy. All that is needed is a good thought. A thoughtful intent, as I like to call it. To construct an effective intent, one should use raw emotions to power his or her spells. Although raw emotions are not necessary to cast spells, pressing emotions into words and thoughts will help supercharge almost all spells. However, note that supercharged spells are difficult to control and may get _very_ out-of-hand. Certain spells like the _Patronus _charm require emotions as a sort of default. These types of spells and charms are much more variable in terms of effects. Certain emotions can affect spells in different ways. _

_I tested this theory on the _Stupefy _spell and achieved interesting results. It was noted that when I focused on the raw emotion of anger, the spell was much more violent than expected. This particular emotion produced a spell that impacted the target with a larger radius and much less precision. I also attempted meditation to imitate serenity. After meditating, I was able to cast a _Stupefy _spell with great precision. This technique can be useful for hitting targets at long ranges. Finally, using the emotion of fear, I was able to produce multiple spells with minimal recoil. In addition, no time was necessary to recharge my magic, meaning I was able to throw consecutive spells in a row for a good ten to fifteen seconds. With practice, I would probably be able to defeat well-accomplished wizards and duelers._

"What are you reading?" Harry looked up at caught the intent stare of a very curious Daphne Greengrass. Harry finally took note of his partner.

"Oh . . . hi. It's nice meeting you again. I haven't seen you around Hogwarts a lot this year."

"What are you reading? Can I see it?" She gently pressed eagerly.

"Just schoolwork," Harry replied evasively. He closed the book and carefully set it atop his lap. He looked up at the girl and studied her face.

"I just want to see it." She frowned and huffed lightly. The girl bore her striking blue eyes into his. "Why are you doing schoolwork now anyways?"

"What are we supposed to be doing?" Harry looked around and watched other partners conversing amongst one another. Some of them were constructing runes on clean parchments of paper.

"Well, instead of fooling around, you should be practicing writing out the runes. By the end of class, we need to write a full sentence in only runes. You know that, right?" Harry nodded. "At least _try_ to contribute to the group."

"Are you done with your little rant?" Harry grinned weakly.

The girl sighed exasperatedly. "Don't you want to learn something?"

"I'm just here for the club credits."

"Well, some of us are here to actually learn."

"Well, some of us here just for the credits," Harry replied mockingly, feeling his chest swell up with emotion. Why did he have the sudden urge to flirt with her? Was this normal for all teenage half-dragons like himself?

"You're impossible." Daphne groaned and tried to forcibly memorize the mechanization of forming different sentences in Runes.

"Is that a compliment?" Harry smiled. It certainly didn't seem like one, but Harry felt like talking to the girl. Just talking to her made him feel at complete ease.

Daphne rolled her eyes absentmindedly and mumbled, "You're such a twat."

"But I'm a rather handsome twat, aren't I?"

"Yes . . . I mean no! Definitely not!" Daphne sighed and looked back at him. "Look, if you don't get the lesson, just say so. We need to work together on this."

Harry shook his head. "I'm fine as I am. I get the stuff. Probably better than you."

Daphne looked away. "Fine, be an arse. See if I care."

Harry sighed contently, mesmerized by the girl. She seemed _familiar._ And she had pretty eyes too. Wait, _what_? Harry shook himself out of his thoughts. "I'm not being an arse. I'm just saying that I don't need to memorize anything because I know everything."

"You really are impossible."

"How so? You don't even know me that well." Harry narrowed his eyes playfully.

Daphne simply ignored Harry and buried her face into the book.

"Whoa, was it something I said?" Harry tapped the girl's shoulder, but she didn't budge. "How and why do I manage to piss off all the ladies?" He mumbled to himself. He went back to studying the Half-Blood Prince's book.

After a few minutes, Daphne let out a disgruntled cry of frustration. She slapped the book that she was studying onto the table with an audible slam. She clutched her forehead and began to rub her fingers in circles. Harry looked up and studied her face once again.

"Do you need help?" Harry asked cautiously.

"No!" She turned to face him, an incredulous look on her face. "Apparently, you're no help at all!"

"Relax, Green." _Green? Since when did I give her a nickname?_ "What do you need help with?"

"How can I relax? I don't get anything!" She slammed her head onto the wooden table and moaned, either from frustration or from the impact.

Harry placed a comforting hand on her back but withdrew it awkwardly, feeling a tingle run up his forearm. "I'll help. What do you need help with?"

"Just help me write a damn sentence. Anything. Greek runes? Whatever you're good at."

"Okay, look." Harry whipped out his runes kit and took out the assorted set of colorful runic quills. "Runes are very abstract. There is no correct way to write a sentence in runic language. You can't technically translate directly from English to runes without sounding stupid or missing a letter here and there. There is a variety of runes so there is no such thing as a standard 'runic language.' The syntax can vary from person to person. Some Runescrafters prefer to have pronouns come after verbs or action words while others do not. Also, runes aren't used to communicate.

"There is no practical usage for formulating sentences in runes. Runes are used as alternatives to spell casting. They're used inside of wards and in battle. So really, all this 'formulate a sentence from only runes' is utter bull."

Daphne seemed a bit impressed. "You know more than I expected you to. Why couldn't the teacher explain it like that?"

Harry smiled coyly before grinning. "Not everyone can understand runes."

"Are you saying that the teacher is wrong? Are you any better than the teacher?"

"I'm not saying that Professor Babbling's wrong. I'm just saying that there's no point to writing sentences in terms of runes. It's not like you're going to go into battle and write poetry to ward off the enemies." Daphne actually smiled. "If you want to learn actual runes, you should borrow a book on it from the library. Or I could teach you some basic battle runes. This club is stupid."

"Then why are you here?"

"Because of the –"

"Credits. Right. But still, we need to make a sentence to get credit for this session."

Harry shrugged. "Writing sentences is pretty simple. I learned a few runes that can translate from English while retaining the same meaning. Using –"

"Okay I get it. You're good at this stuff. But can you just do the work so we can get the heck out of here?"

"And you called _me _insufferable? I thought you wanted to learn?"

"Just shut it, Peverell." Daphne punched Harry's arm.

Harry grinned before grimacing. Suddenly, his vision began to blur as the room around him began to spin. The colors began to blend into a blob. Voices began to reverberate from ear to ear.

A shaky image rushed in front of Harry's bleary eyes.

_Two figures were sitting on a window sill. One of them was female, the other male. The female was leaning up against the male. The male whispered into the female's ear._

_The female scowled and withdrew from the boy's whispering. _"Shut it Potter." The teenage girl punched the boy's arm._ "Sometimes, I wonder why I'm your girlfriend in the first place."_

_The boy grinned, ruffling his own black hair. His green eyes sparkled with mischief. "Because I'm Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Likes-Greengrass."_

"_Very cheesy." The blond girl with blue eyes smiled before grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. Within seconds, she was dominating his mouth._

"Peverell?" Harry blinked his eyes as reality slowly ebbed back into his eyes. He looked up at Daphne. The same blue eyes stared back at him. Harry felt his face heat up with embarrassment.

That's why she was so familiar. Daphne was the girl from his dreams, literally. And he usually had wet dreams about her! This was wrong on so many levels!

"I'm going crazy." He muttered to himself. _Stupid sexual fantasies. Damn my hormones!_

"What was that?"

"Nothing." Harry sighed. "Where were we?"

"You were going to write something," Daphne motioned towards the quills. "By the way, those are nice quills. The school only gives us minimal equipment. Where'd you get them from?"

"You want to keep this one as a souvenir?" Harry gestured towards runes set. "I have two other identical sets in my trunk. You can keep one."

_Wait, no! She can't keep my special quill! Stop yourself, Harry. Don't give her the quill! What are you doing! Snap out of it!_

"Can I?" She asked eagerly picked out a green quill with gold engravings all around the center. She looked up at him. "Are you sure that I can keep it?"

_Nooooo! Of course she can't keep it! Take it back from her, Harry. _Harry's mind tried to snap him back into disregarded his mind's advice and nodded, "Of course."

_Die, you bananahead, _Harry's mind cursed.

"It's beautiful." She admired the embossed letters.

"Not as beautiful as you," Harry automatically mumbled to himself before covering his mouth. Wait, she was beautiful? Since _when_? What was happening to him?

"What did you say?" Daphne turned to face a very embarrassed Harry Potter. "Stop whispering to yourself."

"I did _not _just say that." Harry sighed. "I'm going crazy."

"Are you alright?" Daphne looked a bit concerned. "Do you always talk to yourself?"

"Erm . . . not really. Anyways . . . yeah." _Die you bananahead, _something in Harry's mind repeated.

"What does this say?" She pointed the letters embossed around the center of the quill.

"It's . . . um." Harry cowered away upon catching sight of the Raiden insignia engraved on the quill in Daphne's hand: Җ.

"Why does this symbol look familiar?" Daphne scrutinized the pen. "I saw this somewhere before for sure."

"It's . . . nothing." Harry fidgeted. Why was everything going wrong today? What the fuck was wrong with him? Why did he just offer Daphne Greengrass one of his special green quills? He didn't even know her that well! And why the hell was this voice inside his head calling him a bananahead?

Just then, Professor Babbling mysteriously crept up from behind. She spoke up, startling both teenagers. "Are you two done with the assignment?"

"Wha!" Harry yelped and fell off his chair, straight onto the musky ground. Daphne brought up a hand to muffle her giggle. Why did the giggle feel _right _to his ears? "Pro-professor. H-hi."

The professor raised her eyebrows. "Are you two done with the assignment? With all this chitchat, I thought you two would be done by now."

"Professor, we just need five more –" Daphne tried to speak but the professor held up her hand.

"You have had much too much time already. Mr. Peverell, do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"Um. . . ." Harry's gaze wandered across the table. Harry quickly grabbed a golden quill from his set and began to scribble something on a blank piece of parchment.

The first thought that came into his head was easily converted into Greek runes. In just seconds, he was able to successfully construct twenty individual Greek runes, all from pure instinctual thought: Πράσινο χόρτο είναι αρκετά. Harry handed the paper to the teacher and looked at her with a hesitant look on his face. "This is all that I have to say for myself, professor."

The professor frowned as she deciphered the runes into English. "Good. However, the adjective should have gone after the noun. And I would have put the article 'the' before the noun to make the subject clearer. Other than that, nice job. Also, the next time you are given an assignment, please do a bit more teamwork."

"Thanks." The teacher nodded and walked over to the neighboring station for inspection.

Harry began to pack up his notebook and quills, stuffing the potions textbook in his white cloak. He needed to get away as far away from Daphne Greengrass as possible. He was doing all sorts of strange things around her. "How'd you write the sentence so quickly?"

Harry looked at Daphne, who was in a state of awe, and shrugged. "Practice, Green. All you need is . . . practice. Um . . . see you later."

Harry got up to leave. Just as he turned around, Daphne placed her slender hands on his right shoulder, holding him in place. Harry shivered and cursed his hormones. "Wait." He turned around. "What does the sentence mean in English?"

Harry looked at the foreign runic Greek characters. Πράσινο χόρτο είναι αρκετά. He had written the entire sentence all out of instinct. The sentence was the first thing that had popped into mind. He hadn't put thought into the sentence beforehand. What _did_ it really mean?

Harry slowly translated the words. With each word that he read aloud, he turned a brighter shade of red. "It translates into: green grass is . . . pretty."

_Fuck! Something is _wrong_ with me!_

_You fucking bananahead!_ Something in Harry's head berated his stupidity.

OoOoO

"There he is." Astoria squealed in a hushed voice. Daphne Greengrass, Astoria Greengrass, and Blaise Zabini were in the library. They were seated on a table not too far away from the Black brothers and their trusty sidekick, Cedric Diggory.

Blaise sighed and gave Daphne a feigned serious look. "Okay fine, we'll all share him."

Daphne looked up and frowned. "What?"

Blaise smacked her forehead. "If you don't have the courage to ask him, then stop blabbing on about him. He won't stay single forever. If you don't like him, let go of him. At least give the rest of us a chance."

"Wait, who the heck are you talking –"

"But she obviously likes him, Blaise. She can't just let go of him. She admitted it herself last night, didn't you Daph?" Astoria smiled sweetly.

"What are you –"

"I guess we'll all have to share him then, won't we?" Blaise gave Daphne a pointed look.

"Share a person? Who are you –"

"But we can't _all_ date him at the same time, can we?" Astoria huffed in mock disbelief.

"Who in the bloody hell are we talking about?" Daphne harshly cut in, a tad confused.

"Oh Merlin, are you that thick woman?" Blaise shook her head.

"Can't you guys just talk normally?" Daphne looked from Astoria, then to Blaise.

"We're talking about the same guy that you've been ogling for the past ten minutes straight," Astoria explained.

"Who are you referring to exactly . . . ? Because I could have been ogling a number of people and –"

"Stop being stubborn, Daph! We're talking about the same guy that called you hot in Runes club about twenty minutes ago."

"I'm telling you guys," Daphne blushed slightly, "it's no big deal. It was probably a coincidence."

Blaise sniggered and covered her mouth. "'Green grass is pretty?' Hmm, Daph . . . I wonder. What could he have _ever_ meant?"

Daphne blushed before letting a cool look settle onto her face. "It was nothing."

"Admit that you like him," Blaise crossed her arms across her chest.

"Who are we talking about again?" Daphne wittingly tried to change the subject but failed to do so. "You know, the headmaster is –"

"Do you want me to shout it out loud?"

"What . . . no!" Daphne's eyes widened. She instinctively brought up a hand to hold Blaise down but missed her by a centimeter.

Blaise got up and carefully balanced herself on top of the wooden chair that she was sitting on. She quickly got everyone's attention. "DAPHNE GREENGRASS LIKES!"

"No Blaise!" Daphne rushed around the wooden table to pull Blaise down from the chair. Heads began to turn towards the commotion. Daphne caught sight of Harry Peverell looking at Blaise and panicked. "Shut the fuck up! Please, get down Blaise!"

"PE –" Blaise didn't get to finish the sentence. Daphne quickly yanked Blaise's arm and tackled her to the ground. Students swooned their heads to watch a very red-faced Daphne Greengrass wrestle Blaise Zabini.

"What is going on here?" The librarian quickly rushed over towards the two girls on the floor.

"You fucking arse!" Daphne fervidly whispered and began to slap her best friend's arm. "Why the hell did you just do that?" She looked at Harry Peverell Black and quickly turned away. "He could have found out!"

Blaise grinned and gently pried Daphne off of her. "That proves that you like him."

"I do not! And he doesn't either!" Daphne narrowed her eyes.

"What is going on here?" Madame Pince finally towered above the two girls on the floor. "You should know by now that yelling, shouting, and above all bad behavior is _not _allowed inside the library."

"It's all her fault." Blaise immediately pointed towards Daphne.

"My fault?" Daphne's jaw dropped. "No it was not!"

"Oh right." Blaise nodded and pointed towards the grinning face of Astoria Greengrass. "It was all her fault."

"Don't bring me into this!" Astoria rolled her eyes.

"Fine," Blaise sighed, "it was actually your fault ma'am, for not having informed us about the rules." Blaise faced the librarian. "None of us should take the blame."

"That's quite enough nonsense! Out! All three of you!" The librarian scathingly scolded the trio of Slytherin girls. "You are not longer in the library for a whole month!"

"You can't do that! We have homework to do!" Daphne immediately protested.

"I don't care. Rules are rules. If you break them, you pay for them. Now out! Get out before I have to give you all detention. And five points from Slytherin for the each of you!"

"Bu-but –"

"Come on, Daph. I'm hungry." Blaise collected her bag and dragged Astoria and Daphne out of the library.

"This is your fault." Daphne grumbled once the three were outside the library.

"Daph, if you would have just admitted that you like him, none of this would have happened."

"But I don't like him." Daphne's face flushed.

"Yeah you do," Astoria grinned and hugged her older sister from behind. "I can see it in your eyes."

"You know what," Blaise grinned maniacally, "since we're you're friends, we'll help you out."

"Look, the only thing I need help with is my homework. Just please . . . don't –"

"I triple dog dare you to ask Harry Peverell Black out by the end of this year."

Daphne immediately jumped in place, turned around, and screamed. "You what!"

Astoria smiled sprightly. "That's a brilliant idea Blaise. Why didn't I think of that before?"

"You can't do this to me! I'm your friend!"

"Oh Daph, we're acting in your best interests." Blaise comfortably wrapped an arm around both Astoria and Daphne. "Let's go see what they're serving for dinner. I'm starving. They better have a swell feast today."

OoOoO

"Stop looking at her."

"Looking at who, Harry?" Cedric raised his eyebrows.

"At _her_." Harry stressed the end of the sentence.

"Do you mean stop looking at Bell?"

"Yes!" Harry sighed and closed the Half-blood Prince's potions textbook.

"Why can't I check her out?"

"Just because!" Harry gave an exasperated sigh. He was confused. One minute, he felt attracted to Katie. The next, he was all over Daphne. And at other times, he was checking out Daphne's little sister!

"Are you and Bell dating or in some sort of relationship?" Cedric asked.

"It's complicated." Harry said, being careful to not elaborate.

"Um . . . okay." Cedric looked around the library and caught sight of the Greengrass sisters. "Do I need your permission to check them out?" He asked jokingly.

"Actually, you can't check them out either." Harry gave an uneasy chuckle.

Cedric frowned. "You're serious? What do you have going between the three of you?"

"It's complicated."

Cedric's gaze wandered off towards a fellow Hufflepuff girl. "At least she's not –"

"I wouldn't if I were you." Harry cautioned. "Draco has a thing for Susan Bones."

"Do you Blacks have some sort of monopoly over all the hot girls in Hogwarts?" Cedric groaned. "And I thought you said that Drake already had a Muggle girlfriend back at home."

Harry grinned. "Us Blacks know go for the real deal."

"You're a bunch of losers," Cedric shivered at the thought of having multiple wives. "How can you handle so many women? I tried dating this one girl last year . . . and it was a nightmare! She wanted me to give up all my free time, just for her. I can't imagine having two girlfriends, much less three or four."

"We're just really good." Draco cut into the conversation, taking a seat across from Harry and Cedric.

"Where were you?" Cedric looked at the book in Draco's hand.

"He was researching stuff for the pranks, weren't you Drake?" Harry directed his question towards Draco.

"Yeah," Draco nodded. "I was looking up weird charms and spells. Harry asked me to research some good ones. We were going to do a small, test prank tonight at dinner. It's just to get a feel for the real pranking."

Cedric slowly nodded. "You're starting the Marauder thing today?"

"The induction ceremony is next month," Harry informed Cedric. "And as of now, there's only three of us in it. But we're setting everything up starting today."

"Hey, check this out Harry." Harry got up from his chair and circled around the table. He huddled around and looked at the page that Draco was pointing to. "The _Petulant _Jinx."

"Let me see." Harry keenly leaned forwards to look at the spell. "It says that it turns the object in question into any desired color. It also irritates the skin if it comes in contact with it." Harry looked up at Draco and then at Cedric, who was still on the other side of the table. "This looks like a good spell. We should totally try this out on Snape."

"He'd probably figure it out though." Draco said. "We need to be as discreet as much as possible. We don't want anyone finding out about it beforehand."

"We should prank ourselves so the others don't realize that it was actually us. That way, we won't get caught easily." Cedric advised.

"Are you willing to help us?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, sure. Why not?" Cedric nodded. "It seems alright. It's something to take my mind off of boring schoolwork."

"Okay, so the game plan is that –" Harry was cut off by Blaise's sudden outburst.

"DAPHNE GREENGRASS LIKES!" Harry's head suddenly swiveled to his right.

"PE –" He frowned and watched a frustrated Daphne tackle Blaise Zabini to the ground. Daphne Greengrass looked up at him and gasped before quickly turning back around. She began to slap Blaise's arm. Harry frowned and turned back towards his friends.

"What was all that about?" Cedric looked over Harry's shoulder and frowned.

"Who cares?" Draco shrugged and continued to study the book in his hand. "Just some damn teenage drama."

Harry felt something inside of him squirm uncomfortable. Who did Daphne like? The dragon within him felt like eliminating all competition. He tapped Draco's shoulder. "Hey mate, is there a guy whose name starts with a P and an E?"

Draco looked up and raised his eyebrow. "Um . . . pentagon, pentahedron, pentameter –"

"No, I mean like names of people. Do you know any guy's name that starts with a P and an E?"

Draco grinned. "Pentatetrachloride, pentamerous, pentamethylenetetrazol –"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Eh, Cedric?" Cedric looked up. "Do you know any names?"

"Peter is a very common name."

"Is there a Peter in _this _school?"

"Well, yeah. There's a Peter McDaw in Ravenclaw."

Harry instantly narrowed his eyes. "I hate him."

"Why?" Cedric asked. "You don't even know him."

"No reason," Harry shrugged and went back to watching the Slytherin girls. He watched the librarian usher the three Slytherin girls out of the librarian.

"So . . . do we have a game plan?" Draco spoke up. He waved his hand in front of Harry's face. "Are you still with us mate?"

"Erm . . . yeah."

"So . . . ?" Cedric got up and walked around the table. He huddled around the Black brothers. "What's the plan?"

Harry sighed. He felt nervous. Something big was going to happen. His gut was trying to warn him about something. But . . . what? Was their prank going to fail?

Brushing aside his fears about the forthcoming evening, Harry cast an advanced version of the silencing charm, "_Muffaliato_." An invisible bubble covered the three Marauders-in-training.

Cedric looked around as an eerie silence filled their vicinity. "What did you just do?"

"It's the _Muffaliato _charm." He waved the Half-blood Prince's book. "All thanks to this little guy. If you want, I'll lend it to you. It's helped me understand my coursework better and helped me improve my spell-casting."

"Yeah, okay. What's the plan?" Draco asked.

"Okay. So in the middle of the feast, we'll. . . ."

OoOoO

Katie Bell was a lovely girl of age thirteen. She was simply wonderful. She had pretty eyes. Very pretty eyes, if you ask me. Or any other teenage guy as a matter of fact. She also had beautiful hair that always seemed to fall perfectly into place. Her hair was naturally frizzy and had streaks of silver and brown here and there. She seemed like the perfect girl.

And for this, most of the girls her age envied her. In fact, many girls in the upper years also envied her. She had unusually perfect curves. And was it really coincidental that her Hogwarts robes were tight enough to show these curves to all those who were willing to look?

Perhaps. Or perhaps not. Fate is a real mindblower.

Most boys liked Katherine Bell for her hips. They would always comment on her build. They would claim that she was a goddess made fit for the Greek gods. She seemed perfect. Her breasts weren't too bad either.

And for this reason, she had absolutely no close friends. No boyfriends, no girlfriends. The boys would always drool stupidly. And the girls would always throw her contemptuous looks of jealousy, although many tried to hide it.

But Katie Bell was not perfect! No, sirree! She was far from it. Yet, the Hogwarts population had a tendency to disagree with the logic of things.

Katie Bell had many problems. For one, she was dyslexic. She often had a problem reading. She had a very difficult time concentrating on her homework and class work in general. She was very inefficient in Transfiguration. Her grades were of poor standard, except for maybe Magical Creatures and Potions. She was ranked average amongst her classmates. She was far from being the top student. She was not perfect. If one were to think otherwise, he or she would be deeply mistaken.

Katie tried to improve her grades by working extra hours each night. Every day, she would go to a corner in the girls' dormitory and turn on a frail table lamp. She would study for hours at minimum. She would stay up all night if she had to, just to get a better gist of the subjects. And because of all this extra work, she often overworked herself. She had a very difficult life at Hogwarts, to say the least.

Katie was very antisocial as well. The only people she associated herself with were her teachers, her family, and . . . well that's about it actually. However, although she was very reserved, Katie had a very dynamic personality. She was a strict believer in true love and was very bubbly around her family.

For quite a while, she had considered that her bond mate would come and bring her out of her pretty dreary life. She thought that he would give her everything that she had been lacking for the past few years – love, fun, and a proper place in society.

Yet he had not given her anything yet. Harry Peverell had not given her what she desired in life. He had not given her a purpose in life, like most bond mates did. Yet, Raiden had. And he wasn't even her bond mate.

After a while, Katie had decided that Raiden had provided her with what she was lacking all this time. He had provided her with love – he had saved her. He had provided her with fun – he had kissed her. And he had given her a place in society – inside his heart. He had promised to protect her at all costs.

Harry Peverell had yet to strike a conversation with her. So today, she would strike up the conversation. For once, she would do take the initiative.

As of the moment, Katie Bell held two letters in hand. One of them was from her parents. Her parents had finally decided to formally thank Lord Peverell for his valiant deed. After all, it was he who sent Raiden out on the mission to save Katie from Malfoy Manor, right? The other letter was a letter that Katie had written.

The other letter wasn't for Lord Peverell, however. It was for Raiden. Katie needed an advisor. And Raiden seemed like the perfect candidate. Her parents were too close-minded and her teachers could probably care less.

Even if Peverell didn't love Katie, at least Raiden would always be there for her. And if Peverell truly did love her, then Raiden would still be there.

Today, Katie would take the initiative. And either way, she would win something; someone; somehow.

OoOoO

"You think it'll work?" Draco whispered. He twirled his fake mustache.

"Um . . . sure it will Drake." Harry gave his unofficial brother fake reassurance. "What makes you think otherwise?"

Draco bit his lip and played around with his hat. "I dunno. Won't it look a bit suspicious if we just take a stroll outside in the middle of the Halloween feast? Not to mention the miraculous fireworks that will take place during our coincidental absence from the Great Hall?"

Harry shook his head. The ear bud inside his right ear promptly fell out. "We'll say that we had to use the bathroom." Harry readjusted the ear bud.

"All three of us had to use the same bathroom at the same time?" Draco asked with a raised eyebrow.

Harry shifted uncomfortably. He adjusted his black shades. "Hey, it's possible."

After formulating a plan, the three friends had left the library to change into their Halloween costumes inside the Hufflepuff dormitories. Cedric decided to dress up as a Muggle magician; he claimed to know a few card tricks up his sleeve. Draco decided to dress up as a replica of Charlie Chaplin. Harry decided to dress up as an undercover Muggle agent.

The costumes were all Cedric's idea. He suggested that they dress strictly like Muggles to show a certain aspect of respect for them. Cedric added that by wearing Muggle-themed clothing, the Muggleborns and half-bloods would feel at ease around the Black brothers. It was all about trust and social relationships. In short, it was a way to show the Hogwarts population that they were in fact _not_ Pureblood fanatics.

Right now, the three friends were receiving very odd glances from Professor McGonagall. She seemed to be scrutinized upon the Muggle coat that Harry was wearing.

"Do you think we overdid the Muggle costumes a bit?" Harry whispered to Cedric.

"Probably," Cedric whispered back. He took off his black magician's hat from his head and placed it on the table. From inside, he found a pack of Muggle playing cards.

Harry sighed. "Okay, change of plans. I'll do it all alone. You guys just watch my back, okay?" The other two friends nodded.

"Attention everyone," the headmaster, Professor Flamel, stood up and addressed the student population. "We are gathered here to celebrate one of the many holidays that are celebrated annually at Hogwarts School. If you would like to stay after the feast, we shall do a group photograph of all those who are wearing costumes. And now, let the feast begin!"

Promptly, plates of food appeared on the long tables. At once, the noise level rose and students began to converse amongst their fellow peers.

"When?" Draco whispered into Harry's ear.

"Soon. I'll give you guys the signal." Harry assured the other two friends. "Then I'll sneak out."

Suddenly, firecrackers erupted from the middle of the hall. Red and golden sparks spread throughout the air. Dense, red smoke rose towards the ceiling of the Great Hall. As if everyone had been expecting it, the Great Hall filled up with laughter.

"Was that you?" Harry looked around and gaped. "Drake? Cedric?"

"Nope," Cedric wrinkled his nose and waved his hands to drive away the smoke.

"Was this part of the plan?" Harry began to cough. Slowly, the smoke began to dissipate.

"Nah," Draco shook his head in amusement. "The Weasleys beat us to it."

Laughter rang from the Gryffindor table as a few more firecrackers shot up towards the ceiling. Professor McGonagall sternly walked over and handed out a few detentions.

"Do we still do our prank?" Cedric asked.

"Of course we do," Harry gave Cedric an exasperated look. "I do the flash bangs. You guys do the Petulant jinxes but stay here."

"Do we follow you?" Draco asked.

"Nah, change of plans, remember? It'll look really suspicious, so you stay seated. Use your sunglasses to block the effects of the bang."

"That's what I told you earlier," Draco said gruffly. "But you didn't want to listen."

"Well, I should have listened to you earlier," Harry rolled his eyes and grinned. "Okay, are all the teachers properly distracted?"

The three looked up at staff table. The teachers were too busy with their own celebrations. Harry frowned upon catching sight of an empty seat next to the Herbology teacher. "Hey, where's Dumbledore?"

Cedric got up and looked around. "Dunno. Maybe he couldn't make it. Maybe he was sick or something."

Harry began to panic. "What if he catches me outside of the Great Hall? He might give me detention! That'll mess up the prank!"

Draco sighed. "Mate, you're worrying too much. Just go and get it over with already. We'll back you up from inside."

Harry took a deep breath and nodded. As quietly as possible, he pulled out a few flash bangs. The flash bangs were Draco's idea. Harry pulled on his black sunglasses and signaled the other two to do the same. The sunglasses were invulnerable against the flash bangs.

And then, Harry slammed a single flash bang on the ground. There was a loud deafening _bang_ and everyone in near vicinity screamed. Harry got up from the table and dashed towards the exit, hoping that the flash bang had been a good enough cover. He continued to throw flash bangs in the air on the way out, producing numerous explosions in midair.

The flash bangs each produced a bright light that blinded everyone temporarily. Cedric and Draco, who had charmed sunglasses on, began to cast Petulant jinxes at random. The murky brown spells multiplied and struck students and teachers at random. As the bright light faded, everyone gasped. The Great Hall was now full of students and teachers with multicolored clothing, blue or green hair, and purple fingernails.

"What the hell happened?" George Weasley cried out. He looked at his clothes and gaped.

"Bloody hell," Fred grinned, "we've got competition." At this, the twins began to laugh hysterically.

The Great Hall filled with raucous laughter once more. Cedric winked at Draco. Draco grinned and gave his fellow Marauder a thumbs-up. They looked up at the staff table and noticed that only the headmaster had been able to dispel their prank with ease.

"Mission accomplished," whispered Draco.

"Yeah," Cedric whispered back. "Let's hope Harry doesn't get caught."

OoOoO

Meanwhile, Harry stood right outside the Great Hall with a silly grin on his face. He had accomplished the first step. Soon, he would become an official Marauder. He would make his father proud. And his godfather, as well.

Just then, the grand oak door opened. Harry yelped and ducked to his right. He sidled against the cold stone wall. He held his breath, hoping that the person wasn't a teacher.

Katie Bell frowned as she pushed open the grand oak doors. She quietly closed the doors and successfully exited the Great Hall without attracting too much attention to herself. She turned to her left, and then to her right. She caught sight of Harry Peverell.

"Hello, Lord Peverell," She walked forwards and extended her hand.

Harry yelped and jumped backwards. He fell onto the floor. He looked up and gaped. "Um . . . hi."

Katie Bell had seen Harry activate the first flash bang. "Is it safe to assume that you are the new troublemaker at Hogwarts?"

Harry smiled sheepishly. He got up and scratched his head. "Erm, yeah."

Katie nodded. Lord Peverell seemed much nicer in reality. Maybe all these rumors were exaggerated after all. "I have two letters for you."

Harry took the two letters. "Who are they from?"

Katie licked her lips. "One is from my parents. They wanted to thank you for your help."

Harry felt the heat in his face rise. "It was nothing, really. You should thank Raiden, really."

Katie frowned. Was Lord Peverell always this nice? And chivalrous? "Well, you still deserve something in return."

Harry nodded. "What's the other one?"

Katie blushed. "Do you know Raiden?"

"Err, yeah." Harry scratched his nose. "We're . . . pretty close friends."

"Well, I wrote this letter to him." Then, she added, "His efforts were very valiant."

Harry nodded. He began to open the letters when Katie brought up her hand to stop him. "You can't read Raiden's letter."

"Why not?" Harry looked at it cautiously. "Is it confidential?"

"Promise me, that this will reach him safely. And that nobody else will read it, except for him."

"Erm . . . Raiden and I are pretty good friends. I'm sure that he wouldn't mind – "

"Please?" She asked with a serious face.

Harry sighed and nodded. He put the letters into his coat. "Okay, I promise."

Katie fidgeted and thanked him. "Thank you."

There was an awkward silence. Katie looked up at Harry expectantly, hoping that he would do something. What did she expect from him?

_Kiss her, you bananahead!_ A voice echoed inside of Harry's head.

_What?_ Harry looked around. He finally recognized the voice as the same one he had heard earlier in Runes class. It was the animalistic, instinctual voice within.

"Well," Katie looked a bit put down, "I guess I'll get going." She reluctantly turned around.

_She wants you to kiss her, you bananahead!_ The voice screeched inside of his head.

_Why? _Harry asked the voice inside of his head.

_Just do it! Girls always want this kind of stuff, _the voice advised.

Harry sighed and decided to listen to himself. He held out his hand and stopped Katie, "Wait."

Katie turned around, a hopeful expression on her face. "Yeah?"

Harry internally groaned. _Do I have to do this?_

_Yeah you do, bananahead. Just do it. It'll be worth it._

Harry gulped and leaned forwards to give the girl a kiss on the cheek. However, he missed and 'accidentally' kissed her full on the lips. He slowly pulled backwards. "I-I-I'd better get going." Harry stumbled backwards and dashed away. He rushed towards the Grand staircase. He needed to cool off. And what better way to cool down than walk around Hogwarts castle at random?

_You tart!_ Harry grumbled as he climbed the large moving staircase. _You forced me into this, didn't you?_

_That I did, bananahead._ The voice mused. Harry got off on the second floor.

_Who the hell are you?_ Harry began to aimlessly stroll the abandoned corridors of Hogwarts.

_I am you alter-conscious, bananahead, _the voice responded.

_Stop calling me that. I'm not a bananahead,_ Harry grumbled. He rolled his eyes and kept walking, not looking at where he was going in the first place.

_Hey, watch where you're going, bananahead, _the voice warned.

"Why?" Harry wondered out loud. Suddenly, Harry bumped into a wall. Harry rubbed his forehead and backed up. He looked up at the wall and frowned. It was covered in blood. "Merlin."

Harry stumbled backwards and fell into a puddle of water. Harry jumped to his feet and attempted to dry his wet clothes. He looked around. A few feet away from him was a second-floor girls' bathroom. The corridor around him was flooded.

He felt something crawl over his hands. Harry looked down and saw hundreds of black spiders making their way out through the window. "Ah!" Harry jumped up again and shook off the black spiders from his hand. He backed up against the opposite the window.

Something furry brushed against the back of Harry's neck. Harry gulped and turned around. His eyes widened. There, on the wall, was Filch's cat. It hung from the wall by its tail.

"What the bloody hell?" Harry whispered to himself.

_Bananahead, get the hell out of here._ The voice commanded. However, Harry stood still on the spot.

Under the cat, words were smeared on the wall in fresh blood: 'The Chamber of Secrets Has Been Opened. Enemies of The Heir, Beware.'

_Get out of here, bananahead! Now!_ Harry snapped out of his daze and looked around. Harry saw a shadow of someone approaching around the corridor. Not wanting to get caught, Harry began to walk the other way. And then, as casually as possible, Harry sprinted back to the staircase and rushed to the Hufflepuff dormitories.

In midway, Harry heard the agonizing cries of Argus Filch. Fortunately, Harry met no resistance on his way back to the Hufflepuff dorms. Who would have ever guessed that Halloween would be such a hectic holiday?

* * *

A/N/1: Sorry for long wait. I finally got around the uploading problem. Hopefully, this chapter is long enough. Please review. Please take note that Chapters 1-9 have been updated. Chapters 10-14 are still in the beta versions. There will be inevitable changes in characterization, dialogue, and style/tone.

A/N/2: The voice inside his head is supernatural . . . if you get what I mean. Probably not, but whatever.

A/N/3: Thanks for the reviews. Please continue reviewing and adding this to your favorites. Thanks: bitemexox; shubhendu (took your suggestions into consideration, thanks); Scandinavian Snapper; hortensia; Arfa; WolfWings-MoonNight; Sweet Heavens (trying to add more action, hopefully, this chapter is better in that aspect); Lord Hadrian Black (Year 2, 1); wiccan believer; god of all; WhiteElfElder (I didn't mean to bash Minerva. It's a minor grudge between her and the Blacks, she'll act better in the next chapter; also, this new voice inside of his head will help him in attaining his goal); cah11 (added Daphne action); Hanzo of the Salamander; Zicou; Ravenic Tauro; Awsomeness7; Aaron Leech.


	15. The Three Maraudeteers

_Disclaimer_: See Chapter 1. Chapter 15 updated 4-3-11

* * *

The Three Maraudeteers

"You ditched us," Draco said with mock anger. Cedric, Draco, and Harry were seated on the Dragonfist round table for once. They usually didn't sit on the Dragonfist table to eat, but Harry had urged them to do so today. It was the morning after the Halloween feast. "You chickened out, didn't you?"

"I did _not_." Harry gaped.

"Snape noticed that you were gone." Draco said. "He was about to report your disappearance to Flamel."

"We almost got caught." Cedric added.

"Look, I didn't mean to ditch you guys. I just . . . forgot."

"You messed up the _master_ prank," Cedric said bemusedly. "You failed us, Harry. Why?"

"Look, I seriously –"

Cedric pinned his forefinger at Harry's chest and said, more dramatically this time, "_Why_?"

Harry cracked a smile. "Guys, I'm sorry. I honestly forgot about the second part of the prank."

"You forgot?" Draco asked. "How did you forget about it in the span of five minutes?"

"I sort of . . . had a run-in with someone. I didn't mean to mess up the Halloween prank. Honest."

"Oh," Draco raised his eyebrows. "You had a run-in with . . . someone?"

"Yeah. It was totally unexpected."

Cedric took his chance. "Did this someone happen to be . . . a _female_ by any chance?"

Harry waggled his eyebrows and continued his breakfast. "You bet it was."

"Please do explicate, dear brother." Draco scooted over and wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulder.

"Well," Harry drawled on with a grin on his face, "I was patiently waiting outside the Great Hall for the perfect opportunity to get back inside when all of a sudden, the doors banged opened."

"Was it a teacher?" Draco asked.

"No. But she did catch me, unfortunately."

"_She_ caught you?" Draco asked. "Who was she?"

"Apparently, Katie Bell, a third-year Gryffindor, followed me out of the Great Hall."

Cedric looked up interestedly. "Isn't she the same Katie Bell from the library?"

Harry nodded. "Well, she gave me this letter . . . wait, no. She gave me two letters that –"

"Was it a love letter?" Cedric asked.

Harry smiled. "Not exactly. It was a thank you letter."

"You saved her life or something?" Cedric interrupted.

"Well, Raiden saved her life. But Raiden and I –"

"Oh yeah," Cedric nodded. "You have connections with Raiden, right?"

"Exactly," Harry nodded. "So I'm just the mail carrier. She gave me a letter to give to Raiden."

"That's sweet," Cedric whistled. "I mean the part with you having connections with Dragonboy."

"Yeah," Harry replied.

Cedric frowned. "Shouldn't you be jealous, though?"

"Why would I be jealous?"

"Well, she's sending him love letters. I thought you had a thing for her."

Harry gave a slight chuckle. "It wasn't a love letter, mate. She was just giving him a formal thank you."

"Did you open the letter to check?" Cedric inquired.

"Well . . . she told me not to open it." Harry frowned, with a look that blared 'Isn't that obvious?'

"I'm just saying. Dragonboy might be . . . _competition_." Cedric grinned. "But I don't expect you to fight him for a girl. He'd kick your arse in a duel anyways, so it doesn't really matter."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the support, guys."

"You're welcome. That's what friends are for." Draco smiled mischievously.

"Well anyways, we talked a bit. She thanked me. Then, she gave me two letters. One was for Raiden, the other was for me."

"And you forgot about the rest of the prank because of some love letters?" Draco asked.

"They weren't love letters, for the last time!"

"Yeah, yeah," Cedric muttered with a snicker.

"Well afterwards, we . . . umm . . . ." Harry rubbed his left forearm. "Then we . . . then she . . . then I –"

"Then you what? Did she thank you?"

"Sort of," Harry bit his lip.

Cedric and Draco looked at one another and gasped in unison. "You kissed her, didn't you?" They asked at the same time.

"Well, I dunno. It wasn't really a kiss."

"Did your lips touch in any shape or form?" Draco asked.

"Well, kind of."

Draco grinned. "I'm curious. What do you define as a kiss, then?"

Harry sighed. "Fine, we kissed. Happy?"

Cedric shivered. "Mate, I don't think you should go around snogging Raiden's girl."

Harry gave an exasperated sigh. "Raiden doesn't like her. She's not his girlfriend."

Cedric smiled. "So, how long did you guys snog?"

"You scare me sometimes, Ced. We really shouldn't be gossiping about one another's love affairs."

Cedric shrugged. "But just for the . . . record. How long was it?"

"If you must know," Harry huffed, "it was a few seconds. Or something."

Draco frowned. "A few seconds?"

Harry rubbed his neck. "Well, yeah. What'd you expect?"

"Harry, why the heck did you shy away? You're not that type of guy, are you? You're usually very confident." Draco commented.

Harry licked his lips. "I dunno. I'm not good with girls."

Cedric chuckled. "Are you sure you're not drunk, Harry?" At Harry's pointed look, Cedric elaborated. "You seem _fine_ with most of the girls in this school. Aren't you the type that likes to boast . . . and bloat . . . and gloat?"

Harry shrugged. "Some girls have that kind of effect on me."

"So you're saying that some girls in this school make you feel different?" Draco asked uncertainly.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, it's kind of scary."

"Do _I _have that kind of effect on you, babe?" Cedric whispered in a husky voice.

Harry snickered. "Definitely, Ceddie. You rock my Wizarding world."

Cedric grinned triumphantly. "I knew it."

Draco frowned inquisitively, ignoring Cedric and Harry. "So . . . you're attracted to . . . certain girls?"

"Yeah," Harry bit his lip. He felt the color in his cheeks rise.

Cedric scrutinized on Harry's blush. "Mate, are you blushing?"

Harry's eyes widened. He quickly coughed and hid his face, letting his bangs cover his eyes. "N-no. Of course not!"

Draco burst into a fit of laughs. "You cease to amaze me, bro. One second, you're willing to shag every girl in school without the slightest guilt. The next, you're all giddy around _certain_ girls."

"Shut up, you guys." Harry gritted his teeth in embarrassment.

"Next thing you know, he'll be a hopeless romantic," Cedric grinned.

"I will not." Harry silently growled.

"You need to get your hormones checked, bro." Draco smiled irksomely.

"You lot need to get as far as away from me as possible." Harry narrowed his eyes.

Draco grinned. "Oh it's on, mate."

Suddenly, Cedric perked up with a somber face. "Hey, I just remembered. Did you guys hear about the Chamber of Secrets?"

"You mean the writing on the walls on the second floor?" Draco turned towards Cedric.

"Yeah," Cedric nodded, completely serious. "What do you guys think? I heard that Filch's cat was actually _petrified_."

Draco shrugged. "I dunno. I say good riddance. I hated that cat anyways."

Harry gulped. "Yeah, it's probably nothing."

OoOoO

A week passed since the incident of Filch's cat. Frightening rumors about 'The Heir' rose, but soon died down. The petrified cat was eventually diagnosed and an eventual cure was located. Severus Snape, who had witnessed Harry Black's disappearance during the feast, began to keep a close eye on him.

The three friends – Harry, Cedric, and Draco – didn't pay too much heed to the incident. Many students thought that the whole incident was another Weasley prank. Moreover, Weasley twins neither consented nor rebuked these rumors. Only some of the younger students actually took the incident to heart. The Hogwarts staff was obligated to take the threat seriously and cautioned all students to be wary of wandering the hallways alone. But once again, nothing more happened.

And so, life at Hogwarts droned on as usual.

OoOoO

"Write a roll of parchment describing the pros and cons of the _Duro _and the _Glisseo_ charms in a duel." And with that, the Transfiguration teacher dismissed the class of second-year students.

Harry Peverell Black was packing up his belongings when he heard the teacher call his name. "Mr. Peverell, may I have a word with you?" She called from the front of the room, catching the boy's attention.

Harry looked up and frowned. "Did I do something wrong?"

Professor McGonagall shook her head. "No, Mr. Black. May I simply borrow you for a few minutes? I needed to have a word with you."

Harry gruffly nodded his head. "Of course, professor. I was on my way to the headmaster's office anyways."

"Hopefully, you can make some free time for me?"

"Yes, professor, I can. Professor Nicholas won't mind." Harry gave a polite and curt nod. He turned towards Draco. "I'll catch up with you later."

Draco nodded. "We're meeting up on the fourth floor corridor for the Marauder induction, right?"

Harry smiled. "Yeah. Now get going." Draco nodded and exited the classroom.

"Please come forth and have a seat." The elder woman gestured to a chair directly in front of the teacher's desk.

"Are my studies okay?" Harry wondered out loud as he took the aforementioned seat.

To Harry's surprise, the stern woman gave a thin smile. "No, Mr. Black. Your studies are going quite well. I would actually like to give you a formal apology."

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but thought otherwise.

"I would like to apologize for my behavior for the past couple of weeks. It has been uncalled for."

Harry finally found his voice. "Why were you so opposed to me in the first place?"

McGonagall sighed. "My hate was directed more towards your name rather than your personality."

"My name, professor?" What was wrong with his name?

"It's an old grudge," the professor brusquely muttered. "You see, the Blacks have had a very long reputation."

Harry tensed. "A long reputation . . . for what?"

"I used to teach Mr. Sirius Black back in the seventies." She morosely began her side of the story. "And I was wary of him from the beginning."

Harry listened, completely captured by the tale of his godfather's childhood.

"He befriended misters Remus Lupin, P-Peter Pettigrew, a-and . . . J-James Potter in his first year." The professor mustered up her swelling emotions and continued the story.

Harry studied the professor's face. Clearly, she was very sentimental. "What does this have to do with anything?"

McGonagall ignored Harry and continued. "He was sorted into Gryffindor. He and James became the best of friends." She paused and took a deep breath. "His years at Hogwarts were very interesting, to say the least. The four friends became known as the Official Marauders."

Harry hesitantly nodded, awaiting the climax of the story.

"After Hogwarts, I suspect that the four remained the best of friends and trusted one another with each other's lives. James was the only one who fell in love and started a full-fledged relationship. He married Lily Evans, the head girl." The teacher smiled grimly. "They lived in minimal bliss for a few years. Finally in nineteen eighty, the Potters had a beautiful baby boy. They named him Harry Potter."

Harry finally understood where this was leading to. "You think that he betrayed them as the Secret Keeper, right?"

McGonagall nodded. "Precisely. And the worst part is that the Potters named Sirius Black as the boy's legal guardian."

Harry quickly nodded.

"The Potters were forced into hiding a year later. Sirius Black became their Secret Keeper and was appointed with the job keeping them safe. However, he turned against them and gave up their position to You-Know-Who."

Harry sighed. His godfather had been blamed for something that he never did. "And you immediately thought that he was the bad guy?"

At this, the woman's eyes blazed with hate. "He betrayed them."

Harry nodded numbly. "And you simply believed that he betrayed them?"

"Of course. Who else could have revealed the Potters' location?"

Harry sighed. "Peter could have."

McGonagall frowned. "Peter wasn't even their Secret Keeper."

"Did you ever think about the possibility of Peter and Sirius switching places? What if Peter switched as their Secret Keeper to trick Voldemort?"

McGonagall flinched at the mention of the Dark Lord's name. "That . . . is unlikely."

"What if Peter really betrayed the Potters?" Harry asked, determined to clear up his godfather's name.

"But Sirius Black killed the poor lad. Along with all those Muggles."

Harry growled. "He did not! Didn't you ever think about the possibility of Peter actually faking his own death?"

"That is the most absurd theory I've ever heard." McGonagall studied the boy's face.

Harry grumbled. "Whatever flies your fucking broomstick."

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing," Harry mumbled in an aggravated tone. "So, what happened to Harry Potter? Did you take him in as your ward?"

The older professor shook her head. "No, I could not."

Harry scowled. "Professor, there's a big difference between 'could not' and 'did not want to'. If you cared about the Potters so much, why didn't you take in Harry Potter?"

"Dumbledore informed me about the Potters' death that very same day. I was very eager to adopt Harry as my own child. However, Albus dissuaded me. He reasoned that if his own godfather had betrayed him, I couldn't be trusted with the boy either."

Harry frowned. "Where did he send Harry?" He knew the answer of course, but wanted to know what others thought.

McGonagall sighed. "He was sent to live with his Muggle relatives."

"Did you ever bother to check up on him?" Harry asked.

McGonagall shook her head. "I did not feel the need to. Albus assured me that his Muggle relatives were very kind and considerate, very much like Lily. Plus, nobody aside from Albus knew of his exact location."

Harry growled. "And you simply blamed all this on Sirius Black? You willingly put all your trust in Albus Dumbledore?"

McGonagall nodded. "The Blacks have killed many of my ancestors in familial feuds in the past. Black's betrayal stung me more than it should have. In answer to your next question, Albus Dumbledore was the only person I could trust at the time. As the leader of the Order of Phoenix, he was obligated to protect the young Potter. The Ministry of Magic was full of pureblood supporters and such. He could not be placed in the hands of the hands of the ministry either."

"Do you still follow Dumbledore blindly?"

McGonagall lowered her gaze. "Albus has become rather clumsy."

"That didn't answer my question, professor."

The stern Transfiguration teacher looked up. "Why are you so interested in Harry Potter's life, anyways?"

Harry shrugged. "I dunno. I feel bad for him, you know? I mean, his own people abandoned him. I would think that _you_ would have at least cared for him."

The professor looked away, embarrassed. "I never abandoned Harry. I still love him, very much."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Do you, _really_?"

"Very much." She looked up at Harry and gave a watery smile. "Lily and James would never forgive me for what I did. And now, we don't even know where the poor boy is."

Harry let out a breath. "Does all this lead anywhere?"

Professor McGonagall nodded. "I was simply justifying my previous grudge. But, I have come in terms. I have acknowledged that you are not the reincarnation of Sirius Black. Hopefully, you can redeem the Black name."

That was a bad move on McGonagall's part. Harry silently growled. "The Black family's reputation has never needed and will never need _redemption_."

The older woman watched the boy and jerked back as she felt an animalistic force purr. She felt the enigmatic presence radiate its powerful magic at full force. At once, the Transfiguration mistress felt intimidated. "I'm sorry. I did not mean to insult your heritage in any way, Mr. Black. I hope we have no further miscommunications."

Harry gruffly accepted her apology and eventually calmed down. "Was there anything else you needed? I must get going."

The professor eased as she felt the enigmatic force fade away. "You have shown much excellence in Transfiguration. I was wondering whether you could spare a few hours each week to tutor a fellow student."

Harry frowned. "Tutor someone else?"

McGonagall nodded. "One of the third-year students has been having difficulty lately."

"But why me?" Harry asked. "Why not the headboy or headgirl . . . or someone older? Surely I'm not better than them at Transfiguration?"

_Because you're special, peartop_. A voice mused inside his head,

_Shut up, you tart!_

"Because I do not wish to waste their time."

"Are you saying that I'm not going to waste my time tutoring this student then?"

"No, no. That is not what I meant. I mean that they have exams of high caliber. Like NEWTs and OWLs. You also seem to know the solid basics better than many of the students, even in the upper years. This student needs to be taught from the very basics, and you are a perfect candidate."

"Why can't you tutor this student?"

"Because I feel that I do not have much time to do so. In addition, I am willing to give you extra points on your tests and essays."

"You mean like extra credit?" Harry asked.

"Yes, just like extra credit." The stern teacher agreed.

"Well, who is he? Or is it a girl?"

"Her name is," McGonagall smiled, "Katherine Bell. She is from your house, only a year higher."

"Oh bugger," Harry muttered to himself as he felt the whole world around him shatter into pieces.

"Thank you for your time," McGonagall bobbed her head towards the exit. "I hope we don't another failure to communicate in the future."

"Oh bugger," Harry muttered again as he politely got up and walked away.

_Is something the _matter_, peartop?_ A voice inside his head mused.

"Oh bugger me." Harry grumbled once more as he rushed towards the headmaster's office.

OoOoO

"Besides the fact that you were a tad bit late, I would like to proudly say that you are getting better."

"Was I not good when we first started this whole apprentice thing?" Harry gave a sad pout.

Professor Nicholas smiled. "But you have certainly gotten much better with wand movements. And you are able to understand the material I throw at you every session with much more ease."

Harry grinned with feigned arrogance. "Well, sir. You are teaching the best, after all."

Nicholas chuckled. "Now, Mr. Potter. Don't let your arrogance beat your rationality to the finish line."

"Yes sir," Harry said.

"So tell me about what you've learned so far about the power of emotions."

Harry took a deep breath and got ready to impress his mentor. "Emotions help drive one's intent better. According to the Half-blood Prince: the stronger the emotion, the more powerful the correlated effects."

"I don't mean to be rude," the mentor interrupted, "but may you please elaborate? Let's say I was to boost my spell using the emotion of anger. What would be the desired results?"

Harry nodded. "Well, anger tends to cloud one's rationality. Similarly, a spell powered by an intent charged up with the emotion of anger will cloud your spell. It will give a desired effect of much power but little accuracy. It is bound to startle your enemy."

Flamel nodded. "In your opinion, what is the ideal emotion to power spells?"

Harry frowned. "I dunno, sir. Is there a correct answer to this?"

Flamel shook his head. "No. This is an opinionated question. What is your preferred emotion?"

Harry shrugged. "I dunno. I haven't really tested this whole 'Emotions-Power-Intent' theory on any of my spells. I honestly don't know."

Flamel nodded. "Well I suggest you do so soon. By choosing a base emotion, you are likely to return to this emotion with much ease in battles."

"Okay sir. I'll try to practice it as soon as possible."

"Do you have any questions before I dismiss you?"

Harry began to think. Did he really have questions? Well, he did have two questions in mind. . . .

"Well, sir," Harry began. "I have two questions."

"Please do tell."

"Well, my first concern is about McGonagall."

Flamel didn't bother correcting Harry to use her proper name. "What about Minerva?"

"Well, should I trust her?"

"I should think that that is up to you."

"But I need advice. Is she . . . reliable? She sat me down just a few minutes ago and tried to make up for her attitude."

Flamel nodded. "Minerva is quick to make irrational decisions at times. She is very loyal to her friends and pupils. I believe that she was very deeply offended when she heard that your godfather betrayed your parents."

"Is her apology sincere, then?"

Flamel gave a curt smile. "Probably. However, expect her to slip a few irrational feelings about Sirius Black every now and then. It will take her time to adjust to being polite to you. Old grudges never truly fade away."

"So I should trust her?"

"No more than you trust me."

"But I trust you a lot, sir." Harry frowned.

Flamel chuckled. "In actuality, you shouldn't trust me as much. However, your trust in me is quite flattering, if not a bit excessive. You should know this by now, Harry. Never trust anyone."

Harry nodded. "Well, my second concern is a tad silly."

"No question is ever silly."

"Well," Harry frowned. "Is it normal to have a voice inside of your voice? A voice that tells you what to do?"

"You have a voice inside of your head that talks to you?"

Harry nodded. "I know, it's a bit odd. It usually talks to me whenever I'm alone. In addition, it refers to me with pretty bizarre nicknames."

The old man chuckled. "Of course that's normal, Harry. Voices inside your head are quite normal."

"They . . . are?" Harry looked at the headmaster with a dubious expression.

"We all have voices inside of our heads, Harry. It's just up to us when we come in terms with these voices."

"So you're saying that everyone has a talking voice inside of his or her head?"

Flamel rubbed his chin. "Perhaps. However, only some of us can initiate conversations with our inner selves."

"So this voice is . . . my subconscious self?"

"Probably," the old man agreed. "As long as this voice doesn't force you do something terribly severe, it is fine."

"Shouldn't you be worried, though. What if this voice is actually someone invading my brain?"

Flamel shook his head. "Do not worry, Harry. _Imperius_ curses and spells and jinxes of such sort are easily detectable. I have certain techniques to diagnose people under such spells."

"So I'm definitely not jinxed or anything?"

"No, Harry. There is nothing to worry about."

OoOoO

_You tried to knife me out, didn't you, you peartop? You freakin' peartop._

_Why must you be so annoying?_ Harry sighed as made his way towards the Marauder Induction Ceremony.

_Because that is my duty, peartop._

Harry groaned. _What kind of name is 'peartop' anyways?_

_It is a brilliant nickname, peartop. I chose it myself, peartop, just like my other brilliant nicknames for you._

_Stop saying that! _Harry closed his eyes and focused on the voice in his head. However, he couldn't locate the voice.

_But this is quite amusing, peartop._

_Your nicknames are ridiculous. Why must you nickname me after some type of fruit?_

_Because I was programmed to do so, peartop._

Immediately, Harry stopped walking. He frowned and crossed his eyes. _Wait, what?_

_Nothing, peartop._

_Your were _programmed _that way? What do you mean . . . _programmed?

_I did not say, programmed, peartop. I said go scram._

Harry withdrew his green wand and pointed it to his forehead. _Who programmed you?_

The annoyingly cheery voice began to laugh. _What are you going to do, kill yourself, peartop?_

_I have you at mercy, _Harry narrowed his eyes.

_I'm inside of your mind forever, peartop. You cannot get rid of me now._

A nearby student quickly scurried away from Harry, thinking that he was about to kill himself. Harry grumbled and put away his wand. _Okay, who the heck are you?_

_I am you alter-subconscious, peartop._

Harry growled. _Bullshizflick._

The voice let out a hearty chuckle. _A very creative curse, peartop._

Harry sighed and began to rub his temple. _Please, just tell me. Who are you?_

_Well, since you asked so nicely, I guess I should explain my purpose._

"Your purpose?_"_ Harry wondered out loud, startling another passerby.

_Yes. I have been programmed to aid you, peartop._

"Aha!" Harry snarled out loud, startling yet another onlooker. "So you _were_ programmed."

The voice chuckled. _I suggest that you don't talk out loud. Some might think that you're a mentally-stirred milkshake._

Harry calmed down. _So, you're here to help me? _

_Unfortunately, yes, peartop._

_Who sent you to help me? And what are you here to help me with anyways?_

_Lord Luck blessed you. I am his blessing to you._

_That doesn't explain anything. _Harry gave an exasperated groan.

_I am here to help guide you back to your familiar._

Harry's eyes widened. _You mean . . . Aurora?_

_If you are referring to your phoenix familiar, then yes. Peartop._

_Who is Lord Luck?_

_He is a divinely figure that is responsible for taking care of mortal beings in this universe. And watching over them. Peartop._

_A divinely figure? _Harry frowned. _What are those?_

_You did not think that humans were the greatest of beings in this galaxy? Or even universe? Or even this multiverse? Did you, you peartop?_

Harry frowned. _I don't know what the hell you're talking about._

_Of course you don't, you peartop. You're too thick too realize anything._

_Okay, let's suppose that everything that you said is . . . real._

_Everything I said _is _real, you peartop. You're just too thick to comprehend reality._

Harry sighed. _Okay, so . . . how have you been helping me for the past few days? So far, all you've done is annoy the shizflick out of me._

_I have been sending you dreams, peartop. What more did you expect?_

_Wait, you're the one who's been sending me all these awkward dreams?_

The voice huffed. _Of course it was me, peartop. Who else did you think it could have been?_

_Well, your freakin' dreams are no help. They don't mean anything._

_Maybe you're too thick to understand them, dear peartop with a cherry on your bottom._

Harry sighed. _Okay, look. Why don't you tell me what you want me to do right now?_

_I want you to interpret the dream for yourself and figure out my message for yourself, dear peartop._

_What is this so-called subliminal message, dear tart?_

_Well, if you must know, I've been trying to tell you;_ _Expecto Patronum, my dear._

_What the heck is that supposed to mean?_

_Figure it out yourself, peartop._

_Then what help are you? _Harry raged internally.

_I like to watch people suffer, dear peartop. Life becomes quite boring without struggle._

Harry sighed. _Can you at least give me a hint?_

_Expecto patronum, my dear peartop._

_What the heck is 'Expecto Patronum?'_

_It's a charm, sweet peartop._

_I know that, _Harry punched the stone wall to his right and winced in pain. _But I obviously don't know what I'm supposed to do with it. Hell, I don't even know how to cast it yet._

_Oh peartop, you're so silly._

_Okay, that's it! Tell me what you want me to do, right this instant. Before I go back to Flamel and complain about you again._

_He won't do anything. And worse, you might get sent to St. Mungos for being a mentally-stirred milkshake, peartop._

_What is it with you and fruit references?_

_I do not know what you are talking about, peartop. I despise fruits._

_Haha, very funny_, Harry gloomily mused. _Okay, just one tiny hint. What am I supposed to do with his Expecto Patronum charm anyways?_

_I suggest that you go to the library and research the charm, peartop with a lemon on your arse._

_And then what? I . . . cast the charm and expect Aurora to appear out of nowhere?_

_Something like that, peartop._

Harry frowned and checked the time on his wrist watch. _But the library's closed right now._

The voice laughed at Harry's expense. _Oh, dear peartop._

Harry frowned. _What's so funny?_

_I love seeing people suffer, peartop._

Harry narrowed his eyes. _And I will enjoy making you suffer the very first chance that I get._

The voice chuckled. _Good luck with that, peartop._

OoOoO

"Sorry I'm late," Harry mumbled as he walked into the dark, abandoned fourth-floor classroom.

"You're never on time for anything," Cedric shrugged as he closed the door behind Harry.

Draco yawned. "You're twenty minutes late, mate."

Harry sighed. "I got distracted. I had a minor setback."

"I'm not even gonna ask," Draco shook his head and flicked the lights on. Instantly, the room lit up and came into view. Old desks were littered across the cracked, filthy marble floor. Most of the wooden chairs were broken. The chalkboard had mold growing alongside it.

"So this is our official Marauder Hideout?" Cedric asked. He walked over to a dusty desk and quickly wiped it a simple cleaning charm. He studied the desk before plopping on top of it.

"I would guess so," Harry nodded took a desk next to Cedric. "My godfather told me that this was the most convenient of hiding spots. Nobody ever looks on the fourth floor."

"Your godfather was a Marauder, eh?" Cedric asked.

"Yeah," Draco answered for Harry. He sat down on Harry's desk and sprawled his legs across the neighboring desk. "He was . . . Padfoot, right?"

Harry nodded with a smile. "Yeah, he was _a_ padfoot."

"What does the name mean?" Cedric frowned and placed both hands on either side of him. "Or is it something random?"

"No, no. Padfoot stood for something, alright." Harry grinned. "His animagus form was a dog."

"Your godfather was an animagus?" Cedric exclaimed.

"Wicked," Draco mumbled.

"Yeah. In fact, the Marauders have always been animals, pun definitely intended."

"You mean to say that the Marauders were all animagi?" Draco asked, a bit nervous.

"Well, almost. One of them wasn't an animagus. He was . . . a half-breed."

At this, Draco calmed down. "For a second there, I thought we all had to become animagi or something."

"What's wrong with that?" Cedric looked at Draco with an odd look. "I would love to become animagi." And then, understanding dawned upon his face. "Oh . . . oh. Right, I get it."

Harry frowned. "Are you guys hiding something from me?"

"Maybe," Draco mumbled meekly.

Harry sighed. "Okay, we have to set a few rules into the playing field."

Cedric sat up a bit straighter, as did Draco.

"Okay, first of all. We will all take an official oath to never betray the Marauders, ever. And when I mean the Marauders, I mean every single secret that we discover along the way as well."

Cedric nodded. "That makes sense. I sense a bit of Hufflepuff flying in the pitch."

Draco, always the inquisitive one, asked, "What secrets?"

"Well, by taking the oath, you're forced to remain loyal to us. And that means that we have to stay loyal to one another. If more Marauders join, they have to swear loyalty to one another as well. And then, there'll be a couple of secrets, top-secret Marauder secrets. Stuff like knowing one another's illegal animagus forms."

"Illegal?" Cedric asked. "Well, I sense a bit of Slytherin traits floating around as well."

"And what if a Marauder betrays another?" Draco asked timidly.

"Are you planning to, Drake?"

Draco shook his head. "No, I mean hypothetically speaking, of course."

"Well, the person in question would lose a bit of his or her magic. I'm trying to figure out how to charm the oath so that if it's broken, the person who broke it would lose all memories about the Marauders."

Cedric gave a low whistle. "I could make a Ravenclaw out of you."

Harry grinned. "But wait, there's more! Marauders will never play any pranks that may cause harm to others. In addition, the Marauders will become the body guards of Hogwarts. We'll watch over Hogwarts. Once you become a Maraudeteer, Hogwarts becomes a top-most priority."

"Definitely a tad bit Gryffindor traits in here," Cedric added.

"So, any questions?" Harry asked.

"When do we take the oath?" Draco asked. "And is the oath safe?"

Harry nodded his head. "Yeah, it's not an Unbreakable Vow or anything that dangerous. But it's still something big."

"Wait, does Flamel know about this?" Cedric asked worriedly.

Harry shrugged. "Probably. But I doubt that he'll care."

"So . . . who goes first?" Draco asked a bit warily.

Harry sighed. "Okay, I'll start it." He raised his green wand and pointed it to his chest. "I, Harry James Peverell Black do swear an oath of loyalty to the Marauders. I swear to never betray the Marauders. So mote it."

Cedric withdrew his wand and followed suit. "I, Cedric Diggory do swear an oath of loyalty to the Marauders. I swear to never betray the Marauders. So mote it."

Draco quickly took out his swishy brown wand and pointed it at his chest. "I, Draco Black do swear an oath of loyalty to the Marauders. I swear to never betray the Marauders. So mote it."

"Well, that's that." Harry cracked his neck and looked at his fellow Marauders. "Welcome to the club, guys. We've all been officially inducted as the new generation of Marauders."

"Says who?" Draco gave Harry an unsure look.

Harry huffed pompously and straightened his collar. "Why, me of course."

"Don't we all get to name ourselves?" Cedric asked excitedly.

"Well, if you want to." Harry shrugged. "Or we could wait and think about the names beforehand."

"Nuh-uh," Draco shook his head. "There's too much thinking going on."

"Can I be –" Cedric spoke up but Harry interrupted him.

"Okay, we'll think about names later. For now, we'll go by the names Maraudereet Number One – that'll be me, Maraudereet Number Two – that'll be Draco, and Maraudereet Number Three – that'll be Cedric. Or we could be Maraudeteers. Same thing"

"But that's too bland," Cedric complained. "Can't I be Rick the Great?"

Draco frowned. "I thought the names had to be one word. And they have to be meaningful."

Cedric grumbled. "Rick the Great is a fine name if you ask me. And it's symbolic of my heroism."

"Is not," Draco retorted casually.

Harry smacked his forehead. "Okay, guys. Seriously?"

"What?" Cedric looked up at the unofficial leader of the club. "I just wanted a cooler name."

"We'll settle on names later, honest." Harry promised. "Now, let's finish the ceremony like mature people."

"What's there left in the induction ceremony?" Cedric frowned.

"Okay, this is the best part, actually." Harry rubbed his hands together.

"What, is it like story time or something?" Draco asked.

"It's even better." Harry continued rubbing his hands.

_You're not going to accomplish in starting a fire by rubbing your hands together, dear mentally-stirred peartop._ An inner voice shattered the tense, dramatic moment inside Harry's mind.

Harry groaned, but ignored the voice. To his surprise, the inner voice didn't speak up again.

"Like I was saying before, it's like story time, but only better. You see, we get to share secrets with one another."

"We share secrets?" Draco asked warily.

"Well, yeah. But remember, no secrets will ever be revealed because of the oath. So the secrets will stay safe."

"What kinds of secrets?" Cedric inquired.

"Well, any type of secret. Or anything about yourself that we don't know. For example, my favorite color is green. What's yours?"

"Yellow," Draco replied.

Cedric put on a pensive expression. "I dunno what my favorite color is, actually. Is . . . rainbow a color?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "No seriously, Cedric."

"Okay, fine. I'll have to go with . . . red and white."

"That's not a color wither, mate." Draco snickered.

Cedric huffed. "Fine, I'll go with white."

Harry grinned. "Great. You get the trend, right?"

"Wait," Draco jumped from the desk that he was sitting on, "can we not be too personal about the secrets right now? Maybe wait until the next meet?"

Harry nodded. "Sure. I was thinking about saving personal questions for next time. But right now, let's continue with our little interrogation." He turned to Cedric. "My favorite number is three."

Draco rubbed his cheekbone. "I always liked one."

Cedric frowned. "Hmm . . . I'll have to go with zero."

Harry smiled. "Well then, we know so much about each other already! Let's turn it up a notch. I was born on July 31 of 1980." At this, Draco frowned, but the other two didn't notice. "When I was young, I used to have blue-green eyes, but I grew out of them."

Harry turned towards Draco and the other two Maraudeteers looked at him expectantly. Draco started to speak. "Okay, I was born. . . ."

OoOoO

Later that week, Harry decided to finally open Katie's letter. He didn't want to break his oath with her. Technically, he was still Raiden. But appearance-wise, he wasn't Raiden. He was Harry James Potter Peverell Black. But that was the whole tricky part! When was he Raiden? When was he just Harry?

After many arguments with himself, Harry finally decided that he would read Katie's letter.

Harry closed the Hufflepuff boys' dorm and tiptoed into his bed. He eagerly climbed onto his bed. He carefully broke the seal and slowly took the letter out of the beige-colored envelope. His heart hammered rapidly against his chest. Why was he so nervous? It wasn't a love letter, right. She had simply written to Raiden to thank him.

Harry's eyes quickly scanned the writing. Although the writing was a bit sloppy, it was readable.

_Dear Raiden,_

_I would like to start off by saying that I am very grateful for your help. If you hadn't come along, I would probably be rotting in Malfoy Manor. Who knows what would have happened next. My parents didn't send you a letter and I thought that that was rather mean of them. I mean, it wasn't Harry Peverell who saved me, was it? It was you! And once again, I want to thank you. I am eternally grateful!_

_My next concern is about Harry Peverell Black. I was wondering how well you know him. If you didn't already know, I'm his bonded mate. I know it's a bit wrong to be talking behind his back like this but I honestly don't know who to confide in. My parents would murder me if they saw that I was having second thoughts about my bondmate. And . . . I couldn't just talk to Lord Peverell without somehow provoking him or insulting him in one way or another. That's why I urgently need your advice._

_You probably will not even bother writing back, but I would be even more grateful if you did. You see, I want to know about my bonded more. I heard that you are somehow related to him. Are you two actually friends? Are you two close? If so, can you run me through his personality roughly? As of the moment (it's October 21__st __), he doesn't seem like I had imagined him to be. He is a bit too pompous for my liking. Is he always like that? Is he ever nice and affectionate? He hasn't even bothered to introduce himself to me!_

_I know that I might sound a bit like a drama queen. I'm a bit hysterical at this point. But I just want the truth. If you would be kind, do me a favor and write back? And if you're too busy saving others' lives, at least talk to him. Please? Thank you so much, Raiden. I will forever be in your debt._

_Yours forever sincerely,_

_Katherine Bell_

_P.S. I love you, even if you don't love me back._

Harry noticed that some of the writing was smudged. He frowned and gaped. The whole letter was stained with tears. Dried tears.

Harry dropped the letter and looked at his own hands with horror.

Had he really been that awful? Surely . . . Katie had been exaggerating? Had he really been a . . . git?

Harry looked back at the open letter that now lay open on his fuzzy blanket. Was it too late to apologize?

He looked back at the post message. _P.S. I love you, even if you love me back_. Harry's eyes widened. He felt his chest swell with jealousy. He was jealous of Raiden. But . . . that didn't even make sense, did it? Harry was . . . jealous of himself?

OoOoO

The next morning, Harry didn't even bother waking up Cedric or Draco. They would wake up eventually, right?

Instead, Harry rushed into the lavatory and took a shower in record time – two minutes or less.

He snagged on his brilliant white Hogwarts cloak and rushed down the magical, moving staircase. He bumped into several people and didn't even bother apologizing. He had some apologizing, but not to some random Hogwarts students. He had a target.

OoOoO

Daphne Greengrass took a seat next to Blaise and Astoria.

"How goes it?" Blaise stifled a yawn.

"M'kay." Daphne shrugged and reached out for her favorite jam. "Say, what was the DADA homework?"

Blaise gave a sloppy grin. "Do you want me to lie?"

Daphne scowled. She took a butter knife and dug it into the jar of jam. "Do you ever do your homework?"

Blaise shrugged. "Dumbledore never even checks the homework that he gives. So don't worry. He'll probably be too busy entertaining us with the myth of the Chamber of Secrets again."

Astoria immediately perked up. "I don't think it's a myth, though. I heard that the blood on the wall was real."

Blaise shrugged. Her shoulders sagged as she plopped her forehead on the table. "I don't really give a damn." She mumbled against the wooden table.

"Blaise," Daphne hissed. "Act like a woman, for Merlin's sake."

"Blah blah blah," Blaise mocked her friend and lazily snatched a bagel. "I knew I should have gone to sleep early."

"When'd you go to sleep, anyways?" Daphne frowned.

"Well, I was reading this novel –"

Daphne sighed. "Blaise, how many times have I told you to stop reading those stupid romance novels?"

Blaise shrugged. "I dunno. Too many times to keep track of."

"Hey, look!" Astoria shook Daphne's shoulder.

"What?" Daphne looked up at her sister. Astoria seemed to be engaged with something that was happening across the Great Hall.

"It's _Harry_." Astoria giggled, before deeply frowning. She gasped and pointed towards the boy in question.

"What's wrong?" Daphne followed Astoria's hand. It landed on the Gryffindor table. "What's he doing on the Gryffindor table?"

"House unity?" Blaise looked up interestedly.

"He's with Bell!" Astoria gasped.

"What?" Daphne got up and scrutinized her gaze on the two. She watched as Harry took Katie Bell's hand and kissed it. Daphne's stomach rumbled. Was it from hunger? Or was it from disappointment? Or . . . was it something else?

"I told you to snag him before it was too late." Blaise shrugged. "But _no_, you wouldn't listen."

"I think I'm going to be sick." Daphne grumbled and sat back down with a sour face.

* * *

A/N/1: This chapter is still a beta version, along with the past four or five chapters. Please note that the past four or five chapters have not been edited in a very long time. So if you see flaws in those chapters, point them out and be patient.

A/N/2: Thanks to: Aaron Leach; Awsomeness7 (bananahaed isn't creative, I know. But the voice is supposed to be a bit annoying and clichéd.);Goldencoyote; Sweet Heavens; ceo55; Hanzo of the Salamander; Ravenic Tauro (hopefully I answered some questions with my PM and this chapter); god of all; shubhendu dutta; WhiteElfElder (His floundering shouldn't be a lingering trait. He feels different around certain people – or rather, Daphne and Katie. Characterization is getting better, hopefully? And his confidence is coming back, right?)

A/N/3: Please do review and give any feedback. And add this to your favorites and/or story alerts.


	16. Getting Serious

_Disclaimer_: See Chapter 1. Chapter 16 updated 6-5-11

* * *

Getting Serious

"Maraudereet number one, do you read me?" Cedric cleared his throat and whispered in a raspy and deep voice. He was facing away from Harry purposely. "Maraudereet number one, do you read me? Number three, out."

"Mate, I'm right here." Harry tapped Cedric's shoulder.

"I know that. Ju–_just _answer the damn question!" Cedric whispered in a domineering fashion. "Do you read me? Number three, out."

Harry groaned. "Yes, I _read _you. But, seriously? I mean, is all this is really necessary?"

"Oh, good," Cedric whispered back, ignoring Harry's previous concerns. He still didn't turn around. "For a second there, I thought I lost signal."

"You lost signal?" Harry rolled his eyes. "And stop muffling your voice. Try to actually focus on the prank. Why are you speaking like that anyway?"

"Well," Cedric continued to talk into his cupped hands, "it makes the whole prank sound more legitimate."

"No wonder we never accomplish anything." Harry sighed moodily. "Hey Draco, Is the coast clear?"

Draco looked up. "I can't tell. I think the microscope is broken."

"Wow, really Drake?" Harry threw his hands into the air. "Those are _binoculars_, for Merlin's sake."

Draco frowned and examined the binoculars. "Oh?" He looked up. "Well, they're still broken."

"And I thought you were the smart one." Harry rushed up to Draco and helped him adjust the binoculars. "You're holding them the wrong way, mate." Harry turned the binoculars around and handed them back to Draco. "Hold them like this."

Draco grasped the Muggle device again. He peered through the binoculars. "Oh, no wonder." He looked back at Harry. "I knew that, by the way."

Harry nodded his head uncertainly. "Sure you did, Draco. Sure." Harry looked at the clock on the wall. "Darn, we're running out of time. Any minute now, lunch will be over and the hallways will be flooded with students again. There'll be too many witnesses. It's either now or never."

"Now or never," Draco repeated as he surveyed the lengthy sixth-floor corridor. "There's no Filch in sight. You should get to it."

Harry nodded. "Okay Ced, let's go."

"I can't understand what you're saying, fellow Maraudereet." Cedric bellowed into his cupped hands. "Over!"

"Cedric, I'm serious."

"Try talking in codename, Maraudereet number one. Over!" Cedric replied.

"Cedric, I'm warning you."

"Try referring to me as Maruadereet number three, not Cedric. Over!"

"Oh brother." Harry shook his head. He walked over and smacked the back of Cedric's head.

"Ow!" Cedric winced and tumbled back a few steps.

"Stop fooling around already, mate. Come—_on_."

Cedric rubbed his head and sighed dramatically. "You're such a spoil sport." The tall and lanky boy put away the fake walkie-talkie and turned back to face his partner in crime. "What are we doing again?" His hair was cleanly combed, much unlike Harry's or Draco's.

Harry rolled his eyes. "We've gone through the procedure a bazillion times already. We're going to try to mess up the school grand clock, just like last time." At Cedric's blank expression, Harry elaborated. "I researched a spell that will slow down the metallic gears inside of the grand clock enough so we can mess with the gears inside of it. This way the whole bell schedule will be wrong for the rest of the day, probably off by two hours or more. And hopefully, it'll remain dysfunctional for tomorrow as well." Harry tugged on Cedric's shoulder, "Come on," and dragged him to the other end of the corridor.

"Don't you think that this is a bit complicated?" Cedric whined in protest. "Why can't we just do fireworks instead? I mean it worked the last time and—_ahhh_!" Cedric yelped as Harry yanked him by the back of his silky brown hair.

"Watch for teachers and any students, okay Draco?" Harry yelled back as he sprinted away towards the site of the crime. "And don't mess this one up." Harry's footsteps echoed as he ran up a spiral staircase with Cedric right behind him.

Draco nodded confidently. "I won't mess up." They'd messed up six times already. But the seventh time was going to be the charm. They would _not _mess this one up, definitely not. Draco nodded his head. It was time to get serious.

Harder said than done.

OoOoO

The boy began to patrol the hallway. His job seemed pretty simple. Actually, it _was _really simple. All he had to do was warn his fellow pranksters about any incoming teachers. And if need be, distract the teachers. If students came by, he was to scare them away. Unfortunately, Draco had a bad case of stage fright.

Draco had been patrolling for a little over five minutes and eighteen seconds—which was a new record considering Filch usually caught Draco at around two minutes into most of their previous pranks—when he heard something.

"I'll kill him!" A feminine voice echoed harshly from way down the hall.

Naturally, Draco jumped up in surprise and sidled up against the closest wall, safely behind a rusted-up knight in cranky armor. He cupped his hands over the lenses and looked through the binoculars with shaky hands. He scrutinized his gaze on three approaching figures but couldn't quite make out their faces. They all had long hair. One of them had her head pointed at the ground.

After a while, Draco realized that they were all girls.

"Calm down, sis." The girl in the middle with light blonde hair leaned over. She put a comforting hand on the shoulder of the girl on the right. The girl on the right shrugged off the hand and slumped her head back down, her dirty blonde hair falling down to cover her visage.

"I'll kill him! Shred him to bits and pieces and . . . ugh! That bloody monger!" The girl on the left with fiery red hair made balls with her fists. The other two sisters looked at the redhead. They began to converse in hushed voices.

Draco shuffled his hands into his pockets uncomfortably and took out his wand, ready to send a distress signal to his friends. He couldn't help but shiver as the girls talked amongst one another. That girl on the left with the red hair looked dangerous and very intimidating. He gulped as the trio of girls got closer and closer. Maybe they would turn the corridor at the last minute and he wouldn't have to deal with them.

The three girls walked into a well-lit portion of the hallway where dim sunlight filtered in from the surrounding windows. "Look, he was probably just bluffing. He won't do it—he doesn't have the guts to do it. And besides, she can handle him easily, right Daph?" The girl in the middle aimed a small and polite smile at her sister on the left.

The girl's sister—'Daph'—shrugged and leaned her head against the shoulder of girl in the middle. "I don't know." She mumbled quietly.

Draco took another peek through his binoculars. The three girls were all wearing Slytherin robes and were only a few feet away now. "Please make a right, please make a right." Draco whispered to himself. He didn't want to deal with anybody, not even students. Why couldn't any of the pranks ever be easy?

"You'll cope with Pucey and his gang fine, yeah? Or should we alert the staff?" The redhead asked. She looked less intimidating now that she wasn't shouting. Or at least, that's what Draco thought. "I mean, it's not like they'll do anything but still."

"No need. I can manage them." Daph shook her head. "Where are we going anyways?" She finally looked up. Her light blue eyes examined the surroundings keenly. Her gaze wandered around a bit and rested upon a spot on the ceiling right above Draco's hiding spot.

"Nowhere in particular. We're just roaming around for now. But that's not important right now. What is important is how you're feeling." The girl in the middle stopped and shook her sister's shoulders steadily. "Are you okay Daphne?"

"Yeah, I'm okay Stori." Daphne, the girl on the right, replied.

_Wait . . . Stori? _Draco's mind went into overdrive. He zoned out from the conversation.

Draco gaze wandered over to the girl in the middle. She continued to open and close her mouth but he didn't listen to what she was saying. His gaze wandered some more and landed on her eyes. He noted that the girl in the middle had electric blue eyes and a piercing gaze. It was a gaze that he still remembered well, even after so many years. The blonde Hufflepuff boy gulped. _Crap._

Draco recognized the girl in the middle as Astoria Greengrass. A wave of fear and guilt overwhelmed Draco. Goosebumps popped up on the back of his arms.

Draco bit his tongue and recalled painful memories from the past. He first met the Greengrass family when he was only nine years old. His first encounter with her was very unpleasant—it was at a Black Wizard Ceremony. These ceremonies used to involve inductions of new recruits or, as in the case of the Greengrass family, forced induction via blackmail.

"Well, at least Malfoy no longer hangs around Pucey and his gang. He's changed." Daphne said, interrupting Draco's thoughts and snapping him back to reality.

"You'd better be right." Astoria mumbled. "Do you remember how awful he was when he met us? He pretended to be my friend and then he turned on me!" Draco bit his lips.

"He's changed," Daphne reassured her sister. "He hangs out with Peverell now." Draco felt a bit relieved that someone was actually defending him.

Astoria shrugged. "As long as he doesn't try to rape us, it's all good. Or betray anybody."

Draco gulped. Betray. Something stung his heart. Like an ice shard.

Betray [bih-trey] _–Verb: (1) __To deliver or expose to an enemy by treachery or disloyalty._

Memories overwhelmed his consciousness.

_It was a very pleasant day to go outside. It was summertime. But unfortunately for Draco, he had to stay indoors for much of the entire day. What a pity._

"_Draco, this is your last chance to redeem yourself." Lucius pinched Draco's arm tightly. Draco squeezed his eyes as he swallowed down the pain._

_In reality, Lucius would utter this very statement at least ten times before actually disowning Draco on Christmas Eve of his first year at Hogwarts._

_The adolescent Draco opened his eyes and blinked as quickly as possible, hoping that his father wouldn't notice the tears. "Yes . . . father."_

_Lucius kicked Draco's shin. "Straighten your back, Draco. We are in _public_. Don't ruin _my _impression."_

"_Sorry, father." Draco responded quickly and painted an arrogant expression on his face, just like his father had taught him to. Draco looked at his mother and realized that she wasn't going to do anything to help his position. She looked helpless too._

_Lucius nudged Draco forward. "This is a _formal _occasion. Keep in mind that you aren't to do anything that _I _wouldn't do. Don't mess this up!" Lucius hissed the last part. "Now go and spark up an _intelligent _conversation with your peers, if you see any."_

_Draco frowned. "Wait, why is the Greengrass family here? They're not Black Wizards, are they?"_

_Lucius sneered. "Of course they're not. But, I have set up a formal meeting. Throw in some blackmail, powerful jinxes, and mass security."_

"_What are we doing here?" Draco asked innocently._

_Lucius scowled. "Recruiting more members. Our lord shall rise one day and when he will, we will be ready." Lucius snorted and turned to Draco. "What did you think we were doing here, having a barbeque?"_

_Draco blushed lightly and looked embarrassed. "Sorry father."_

_Lucius cleared his throat and began to talk with Mr. Greengrass. He turned to Draco. "Why don't you introduce yourself to the Greengrass heiresses?"_

_Draco nodded and walked away from his father. Everywhere he looked, people were dressed in black and white. He looked at the entrance. The doors were sealed shut and being guarded by five Black Wizards._

_He trudged over to the banquet table where the rest of the Greengrass family was situated. The Greengrass sisters were sitting on the front of the table and their mother was right across from them. The elder sister looked a bit worried and was staring at her father as he began to argue with Lucius Malfoy. Her sister was savoring the taste of the broiled chicken._

Draco shook his head abruptly. "Now's not the time to sulk over the past," he mumbled to himself. A few more scenes flashed in front of his eyes.

Betray [bih-trey] _–Verb: (2)_ To be unfaithful in guarding, maintaining, or fulfilling.

"_Hi, my name's Astoria," the girl with stark blue eyes smiled, holding out her hand. "But my sis calls me Stori."_

_Draco gave a polite smile but made sure to look as Pureblood as possible in his stature and discourse. "Pleasure. The name's Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."_

_The girl frowned. "You're a Malfoy?" She looked hesitant to speak._

_Draco looked into her eyes. She had pretty eyes. Draco gulped. Actually, she had really pretty eyes. And why did she smell like a goddess? "Don't worry, I'm not a bad person," Draco assured the girl. "I'll be your friend."_

_Astoria smiled a beautiful smile. "Can I call you Draco?"_

Draco grinded his teeth but the memories kept coming back. He couldn't push them back. He didn't have the willpower to forget.

Betray [bih-trey] _–Verb: (3) _To disappoint the hopes or expectations of; be disloyal to.

"_Mr. Greengrass," Lucius raised his voice so much that almost everybody in the hall turned to look at the man. "You have no choice but to agree to our terms. You have been indebted by the Malfoys centuries ago and by refusing to side with the Malfoy clan, you are breaking a family alliance."_

_Mr. Greengrass openly chuckled out loud. "You can go . . . go bow down to your Dark Lord later. I am not aligning myself with scum like you."_

_Lucius snarled and brought out his lengthy wand. He pointed it at Mr. Greengrass at the same time that the other man produced his own bulky wand. "You don't want to get on my bad side, Mr. Greengrass. It'd very dangerous if you do so."_

_Mr. Greengrass tightened the grip on his wand. "You know who would win in a real duel Lucius. Put your wand down or this could turn real nasty."_

_Lucius sneered maliciously. "Se—cu—ri—ty," he uttered out each syllable out clearly._

_Two of the five Black Wizards guarding the entrance stepped out and encircled Mr. Greengrass. They pointed their wands at the man. "Drop your wand, sir."_

_Mr. Greengrass looked a bit uncomfortable. He looked around the hall and realized that nobody was ready to stand up to him. "Now listen here, Malfoy—"_

"Stupefy_!" Three voices screamed in unison. Mr. Greengrass drew out a gasp as all three spells impacted his chest._

"_Daddy!" Astoria got up from her chair, completely horrified, knocking over her glass of water on the table in the process. She looked at Draco with a pleading look. "You said . . . please! Stop it! You said you're my friend. Stop your father!"_

"_I-I can't." Draco whispered. "Please, stay calm."_

"_Please!" Astoria was hysterical. "Please Draco, you promised."_

_Draco was about to speak up but stopped abruptly. Lucius's head whipped towards Draco. He gave Draco an odd look. Draco shivered and held his father's gaze for a while. After breaking contact, he gulped guiltily. He turned to Astoria and did something he would regret for the rest of his years leading up to the present day: "Y-your father deserved it."_

_Astoria shrieked. "What! My father doesn't deserve anything! What did he ever do to you?"_

_Lucius smiled from the background. Draco continued on, monotonously, as if reciting a memorized speech. "Purebloods like your father are a disgrace to wizardkind." He looked up and into Astoria's sparkling eyes. They were teary from anger and misery. "You are a disgrace to wizardkind." Almost as soon as Draco said those exact words, he wanted to take them back. But from the corner of his eyes, he saw his father supervising him. Draco closed his eyes._

"_Escort the Greengrass family out." Lucius's voice echoed throughout the hall, breaking the prolonged disquiet. "Mr. and Mrs. Greengrass, there is no point in reporting us. We have an unbreakable oath from each of you. Or do you not remember when we made you sign it?" He chuckled mirthfully._

_His father's chuckles echoed inside of Draco's mind. When Draco opened his eyes, Astoria had a very spiteful look on her face. He wanted to apologize—anything! But he couldn't. His father was watching._

Draco sighed. He mentally tossed the wretched memories aside. That was the past. That was then. This was the present. This was now.

But even now, this was too much to handle. "Please walk away," Draco pleaded to the blank wall, "oh please walk away. Pretty please with a muggle microscope on top?"

"Mhmm," Daph hummed in agreement. "We should get going to our next class. Lunchtime is almost over."

"Yeah, I don't even know where we are. I hope we're not lost." The redhead said. She was still fuming from before.

"Where do you reckon those stairs lead to?" Astoria asked. She pointed directly towards the spiral staircase that led to the grand clock of Hogwarts. Draco's eyes widened. Unable to control himself, he elicited a loud gasp, "No!" and covered his mouth too late.

"What was that?" The girl with red hair whipped to look in Draco's direction.

"Oh . . . snap." Draco backed up against the wall and flattened himself even more. He made sure that the suit of armor covered him from ordinary view. He just hoped that the girls would walk right past him. That was before he realized that he was supposed to stall anyone who came by. Anxiety struck where Draco was most vulnerable.

"I think someone's over there by that wall. Behind that . . . suit of armor" Astoria frowned and made her way towards Draco.

"If it's Pucey, I swear I'll kill him! That piece of—" The redhead drew her wand and quickened her pace.

Astoria shot the redhead a stare. "Calm down, Blaise. It's probably Mrs. Norris."

Daphne stifled a watery smile. "It probably is Mrs. Norris." Daphne started to walk past the suit of armor and pointed to the spiral staircase. "Besides, I wanna know where this leads to. Maybe It's a Hogwarts secret."

Astoria extended her arm and grabbed Daphne's arm. "Let's check behind it anyways. To be on the safe side." Daphne nodded. Astoria began walking towards Draco once again.

Draco gulped and shut his eyes tightly. He made a split-second decision. "I can do this," he mumbled to himself. "Harry would have done the same." Before his fears even had the chance to betray his minimal courage, Draco stepped into view and pointed his wand at the girls. "H-halt!" _In the name of the Maraudeteers_. But he didn't say the last part. He was unable to voice his thoughts furthermore.

Astoria was the first to register the boy's presence. "You!" She gasped upon recognizing him. Her astonishment turned into fury. "_You_!" She added more scathingly. She turned to her sister. "See, he hasn't changed at all!" She turned back to Draco. "What are you doing here, _Mal–_foy?"

Draco's wide eyes deceived his bold, upright stature. _Do it Draco!_ Harry's voice echoed in his head. _Be a man!_ Draco gulped and looked right back at her determinedly. "I-I could ask you the same thing, Green – _g-grass_!"

The two stared at one another. And then. . . .

"_Expelliarmus!"_

OoOoO

"Are we done yet?" Cedric looked at Harry keenly.

Harry shook his head. He continued his spellwork "Not yet. But this is the closest we've ever gotten." The gears were visibly turning slower and slower. "I think it might work out this time. I'm dead serious." Harry massaged the back of his neck with his free hand. "But I have to admit: this is pretty tedious work."

Cedric shrugged and stretched his arms. "Well, I did warn you. We could have stuck to exploding firecrackers during dinnertime. It would have worked just as well."

"But that's not exactly a challenge." Harry remarked back, not taking his eyes off of the clock. "And besides, Bell saw me do it the last time so we can't do firecrackers again."

"Bell." Cedric chuckled. "It's always Bell this, Bell that."

"Is not!" Harry scowled. "Since when did I talk about her so much?"

Cedric ignored Harry's remarks. "So, you two dating yet? No, wait, even better yet. Are you two having—"

"Don't – _finish_ – that – _sentence_!"

"A little protective of her, aren't ya?" Cedric grinned and casually sat down on the cold stone floor cross-legged. "So you admit that you two have a thing going on. And don't give me that 'I'm just tutoring her' crap."

"McGonagall told me to tutor her, so I _have _to do it." Harry countered, a bit more distractedly. "And besides, Katie said that I taught some of the theory better than some of the teachers. So . . . if it's really helping her, I'll keep tutoring her."

"I was under the impression that you hated McGonagall."

"Holding grudges isn't very wise. The headmaster told me to get over her being the way she is."

"Ah . . . since when did you become so _wise_?"

"Stop talking and come over here. Help me out here." Harry looked back a Cedric. Cedric jumped onto both feet and slowly walked toward Harry. "This is it," Harry beamed.

"Really?" Cedric looked a bit impressed but also a bit unconvinced. "Do you mean to say that this is the finishing touch?"

"That's exactly what I mean to say. Just _incendio_ this baby and we're out! I managed to freeze the oscillator."

Cedric cracked grin. "The – _what_? Oscar . . . somewhat?"

"Oscillator. The thing that turns the gears. Since this is old fashioned, the oscillator is the pendulum itself but modern-day clocks use—"

"Okay, I get it. You're very educated in the arts of Muggle Studies. But frankly, I don't care."

Harry grinned victoriously. "Actually, I don't know that much about Muggles. The stuff about oscillators and pendulums was in the book where I got the spellwork and procedure from."

"Whatever, mate. Where's the honey?" Cedric cracked his neck.

"Window," Harry pointed to a small vial on the windowsill.

The tall boy walked over to the window and uncorked the vial. Then, Cedric took out a black pebble from his pocket and coated it in the honey from the vial. Finally, he set the pebble on the floor, only a few feet from where the clock's main mechanisms were located.

"May the force be with you, young rock. Stay strong . . . and don't forget daddy." After a few seconds of hesitation, Cedric pointed his wand at the black pebble and muttered, "_Incendio_." The honey-coated black rock glowed blue and set to fire within seconds.

"Well, come on Cedric. Hurry up." Harry pointed to the gears frantically. "I can't keep the gears from turning, indefinitely. The magic of Hogwarts will eventually overpower—"

"Yeah, yeah, no need to talk mumbo." Cedric interrupted Harry. "_Windgardium leviosa_," Cedric waved his wand over the flaming pebble and levitated it over to where Harry had his wand pointed at.

"Easy does it," Harry whispered as he watched the pebble with wide eyes.

The pebble settled down in between two, very large and oversized golden gears and clicked into place. Harry sighed contently and let go of the spell that he had been holding. The gears began to turn again but began to glitch inconsistently.

"That should do it. The pebble will probably hold at least two hours before cracking."

"Are you sure this will set the clock off by two hours?" Cedric asked.

"I said at _least _two hours. It might last longer."

"What if we just broke the Hogwarts grand clock?" Cedric asked a bit anxiously.

"I didn't think about that, but it shouldn't be a problem." Harry shrugged. "Not our problem."

Cedric gave a weak chuckle. "Yeah, I worry too much sometimes. Maybe it's because I'm a Puff. Gotta be more like you, eh?"

Harry raised his eyebrows. "I'm not completely careless, for you information."

Cedric gave another chuckle. "Ha . . . you're funny. Real funny, Harry."

Harry was about to say something extremely witty but was rudely interrupted by a scream.

"Help! Rape!" Draco's voice echoed from below.

Harry immediately looked at Cedric with a grim look on his face and gestured him towards the exit. "How does Draco always manage to get himself into the most trouble out of the three of us?"

OoOoO

Harry tiptoed down the spiral staircase to the very bottom. Draco's muffled voice could be heard from the base of the stairs. Harry stopped and drew both of his wands.

"Why do you have two wands, mate?" Cedric asked Harry.

Harry put his index finger to his lips. "Later," he mouthed. Cedric nodded solemnly and produced a brown wand of his own. Harry cupped his hands to his ears. He could hear other voices as well:

"What do we do with him?"

"Just leave him here. He was probably going to ambush us."

"Mhmhmhh!" Draco's muffled voice retaliated.

"Shut—up!" A new voice bit back scathingly.

"Mhmhhhmmm!"

"_Silencio!_" Draco's muffled voices vanished into nonexistence.

Harry tightened his grip on his wands and jumped in place a few times. He looked back at Cedric and gestured him to follow Harry after thirty seconds had passed. Cedric nodded uncertainly and simply watched.

Harry rolled out from the bottom of the stairs and produced both wands at random. "Freeze!"

OoOoO

"What do we do with him?" Daphne asked. She pointed towards Draco. His mouth was sealed with tape. His hands were tied behind his back. He was sprawled on the floor, his back up at the ceiling.

"Just leave him here. He was probably going to ambush us." Blaise said. She was still upset that Daphne hadn't let her do some gruesome things to the boy.

"I don't think he was going to ambush us though." Daphne said.

"Stop trying to defend him." Astoria refused to listen to her older sister.

"Mhmhmm!" Draco tried to retaliate, perhaps explain himself, but was unable to.

"Shut up!" Astoria hissed at Draco.

"Mhmhmhmmm!" Draco tried again but was kicked in the groin by none other than Astoria Greengrass.

Daphne winced. "Astoria," she whispered, "you didn't have to do that."

Astoria shook her head. "He deserves it. For all those times that he tormented you two last year. Remember what he used to do to you? The way you explained it to me last summer . . . it was horrible! I wish I had been with you last year. He would have learned his lesson then."

"People . . . change." Daphne piped up hopefully. "And that's not . . . the proper way to get payback."

A muffled groan sounded from Draco's sealed mouth.

"Why won't he shut up?" Blaise asked as she stepped forward and placed the heel of her boot on the back of his thigh. He wiggled and tried to break free.

Daphne drew her wand, pointed it at Draco, and muttered "_Silencio!_"

Blaise swept her arms into the air. "There, problem solved."

Suddenly, someone yelled, "Freeze!"

Blaise, Daphne, and Astoria turned around and came face to face with a very angry Harry Black Peverell. Daphne gasped and dropped her wand. Harry took his chance, summoned her wand, and pocketed it.

"Nobody – moves." Harry's voice reverberated in the corridor firmly. Harry's eyes radiated power.

Blaise and Astoria pointed their wands at him in defense. They opened their mouth to speak but no words came out.

Harry surveyed the scene before him. His eyes landed on Daphne Greengrass. Her sister and her redhead friend both had wands pointed at him. "D-daphne?" Daphne looked up at him. The whole scene seemed less dramatic with Harry's minor stutter. "What are you . . . doing here?"

"What are _you_ doing here, Peverell?" Blaise asked indignantly. She was still under the impression that Draco had tried to ambush her clique of girlfriends.

Harry's gaze wandered to Draco. "What the hell did you do to Drake?" Harry asked with minimal control of his own temper.

"Malfoy deserved it." Astoria shot back. "He was going to try to rape us, just like Pucey and the rest of the gang. He almost ambushed us too!"

Harry narrowed his eyes. They turned an eerie yellow. "His name is Draco Black, not Malfoy. And what makes you think that he's associated with Pucey and his entourage?"

"Do you think I'm stupid?" Astoria asked audaciously. "Do _you even _know who you're associating yourself with? Does Lucius Malfoy ring a bell in your damned brain? Or are all boys like you equally inept when it comes to basic logic?"

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Yes, I know who I'm dealing with here. He's changed though. What do you know about him anyway?"

"Malfoy hasn't changed a bit since last year. He's obviously putting on an act to hang around you. He's still the horrible person I know. He's a backstabber, that's what he is." Astoria rambled onwards.

Draco was a backstabber? Harry's instinct refused to believe her statement. That seemed like a laughable proclamation. Draco wasn't one to betray another! "Then you don't know him, obviously." Harry replied.

Astoria scoffed. "I don't know him? I met him when he was nine. And guess what? He was still a backstabbing idiot back then too. I mean, his name is Malfoy. He has the word 'bad' written all over him."

The air around Harry became hazy. A wave of magic rippled across the room, converged with the air around it, and impacted the three girls vigorously. They all shivered and took a step back. Blaise lowered her wand a bit but Astoria kept her wand fiercely pointed at Harry. Astoria's electric blue eyes sparked with fervent acrimony. Harry's gaze remained unwavering. There and right then, Harry and Astoria fought a battle of emotions.

"Look, everyone put your wand down." Daphne tried to settle the tense situation and stepped in front of Astoria, breaking her gazing contest with Harry. "I think there's been some sort of misconception."

"No," Blaise pressed. "Draco tried to rape us. End of story."

"Please, everyone put your wand down." Daphne repeated. Nobody made a single move to drop his or her wand. "That includes you, Harry." She looked Harry in the eyes and silently pleaded him to stop.

Harry stared back at Daphne and seemed to understand the message. "I will . . . only if you tell your friends to put their wands on the ground first," he mumbled quietly.

"What?" Astoria exclaimed incredulously. "I don't trust Peverell! He's friends with Malfoy. And he just admitted that he knows what kind of person Malfoy is. They're all involved, I tell you! Who knows what kind of nasty and inhumane—"

"Astoria," Daphne mumbled quietly, knowing that her sister had a short temper. "Calm d—"

"—things he wanted to do to us. And I know Malfoy's a pervert from all the stories you told me about from last year so—"

"—down." Daphne finished softly. Still, Astoria continued her tirade.

"—he probably would have . . . done something really horrible. And with Peverell's strong political background, Malfoy wouldn't have even in trouble for the rape. I mean—"

"Astoria," Daphne repeated in an attempt to stop her sister from raging uselessly.

"—does he think the rest of the student population is blind? Peverell has all these connections. We can see them! I see him chatting with Headmaster Flamel every now and then. He's a piece of—"

"Astoria!" Daphne interrupted sharply. Astoria stopped ranting and looked at her older sister. Astoria's face was red and puffy. "Shut up and listen to what you're saying."

Astoria stopped talking at once and began to grind her teeth in concentration. She realized that Harry was looking at her with a spiteful and hurt glare. She clenched her jaw.

Harry carefully raised both wands with the tip of his fingers loosely in the air and dropped them abruptly. They clattered to the floor. He waved his hands in the air. "There. Do I look like a rapist to you?"

Astoria looked at Harry and then at the floor. She couldn't help but feel a bit embarrassed by her rant earlier. "Malfoy said a number of horrible things to my sister last year. And when I first met him . . . the ceremony! I mean . . . one would expect you to . . . t-to—"

"Be the same?" Harry asked. Astoria nodded, but she looked more collected about the whole situation now. "First off, his name is Black. Draco Black." Harry said in a firm tone.

Astoria was about to say something but Daphne stopped her. "Tell me one thing Astoria," Daphne asked, hands on her hips.

Astoria frowned. "What?"

"Does Harry look like the type to associate himself with people like Pucey?" Daphne continued.

Astoria looked back at Harry. "Well, he may not look like it but from the inside, he may be."

Daphne shook her head, determined to defend Harry. "Remember what the sorting hat said?" Astoria nodded faintly. Daphne pointed to Harry's attire. Astoria and Blaise both looked at his white Hogwarts robes. "He's a Pendragon, for Merlin's sake. He's a role model! Do you think that he would have been sorted into Pendragon if he was some sort of phony?"

Blaise shrugged. "He could have bribed his way in. That's what a couple of Ravenclaws were saying."

Daphne let out a frustrated sigh. "What would he possibly bribe the Sorting Hat with?"

Astoria and Blaise contemplated the information and were stumped, unable to shoot back a comeback.

"Exactly. Think before you speak!" Daphne scolded her friends lightly.

Blaise seemed to buy Daphne's explanation but Astoria still didn't look convinced. "Whatever," Astoria mumbled.

"You know, you would make a great attorney." Harry remarked, breaking the silence.

Daphne looked back at Harry and a tint of magenta popped up on her cheekbones. "Thanks," she nodded appreciatively.

Astoria narrowed her eyes and began to ogle Harry's left ring finger. Harry frowned. "What are you looking at?"

"Nothing," Astoria replied back emotionlessly.

Harry shrugged and looked away, putting his hands into his robe pockets. Astoria Greengrass would remain a mystery to him for quite a while.

Harry's gaze wandered to the base of the spiral staircase that led to the clock tower. He remembered that Cedric still hadn't come to aid him in 'rescuing' Draco. Where was he? More than thirty seconds had passed and Cedric hadn't come out yet. "Coward," he murmured out loud.

"I'm not a coward!" Astoria misinterpreted Harry's mumbling. Her gaze was fixed on a spot on his white Hogwarts cloak, right where he had placed his right hand inside of.

"I wasn't talking to you," Harry shot back, a bit too harshly for his own liking.

There was another long pause. Blaise looked at Harry and analyzed him from the side, choosing to remain quiet for once. Astoria, on the other hand, began another glaring contest with Harry. Harry gladly accepted his opponent and glared right back at her. It was quite childish of them to be partaking in the glaring contest. Daphne frantically looked back and forth between Water and Lightning.

Daphne saw the tense moment and decided to act as a mediator. "She's sorry," Daphne broke the silence. Harry looked at Daphne and waited for her to finish her thought. "Astoria's sorry about everything she said. She has a short temper, so ignore her. But for your information . . . Draco did deserve it."

Harry nodded and accepted Daphne's conclusion, albeit a bit painfully. What had Draco done? Surely it couldn't have been that bad. "I'll talk to him about it," he mumbled. He looked at Astoria, "By the way, people do change."

Astoria shrugged. "I don't think so."

Harry didn't reply. He took out Daphne's wand and tossed it to the girl in question. "There. I come in peace." Daphne took her wand and looked back at the boy. Harry picked up his wands from the floor and pocketed them. "Cedric, come on out now, eh?" Harry walked over to Draco and began to untie him.

Cedric, who had been hiding at the bottom of the stair that led to the clock tower the entire time, peeped his head out. "Is . . . it safe to come out now?"

Harry rolled his eyes and cracked a small smile. "You know, you're a bit late as far as timing goes. I was expecting you to come in and save the day a few minutes back."

"Thirty seconds passed by already?" Cedric asked with a wavering chuckle. "Sorry, mate. I didn't realize. So sorry. Ne-next time, I'll help." Cedric gulped and brushed off his robes for no apparent reason other than to look away from Harry's amused gaze. "Definitely. No doubt. Next time."

"Uh huh. Yeah, okay." Harry bent down next to Draco and began the painful process of removing the tape from his mouth. He noticed that Draco's wand was in his pocket, surprisingly. Harry turned to Astoria. "Why did you give him his wand back?"

Astoria shrugged and looked away. Blaise's gaze now lingered on Cedric. Daphne was looking at Harry's back as he untied Draco.

"Get up, you old hag," Harry slapped the back of Draco's head. "Wake up, daddy's here to save you."

Draco violently pulled the remaining tape off from his lips and cringed at the pain. Draco sat up and began to open and close his mouth repeatedly. He rubbed his jaw and finally exclaimed, "Ow!" Draco began to massage his lips. He shook his head rubbed his forearms. He looked up at Astoria with an uncertain look. "Let's get going," he grumbled.

Harry looked between Draco and Astoria. "Okay, cough it up Drake. Why does she hate you so much?"

"Um . . . well." Draco shifted uncomfortably.

"Come one, Drake. We have all day." Harry cajoled.

"Actually, you two have Herbology next, I have Charms, and the Slytherin babes have DADA." Cedric pointed out unhelpfully. Harry glared at Cedric full force. Cedric gave an uncertain chuckle. "But due to a series of unfortunate events, we were all trapped on the sixth floor, and hence, unable to attend our respective classes for the day."

"Wait a second. I have a question," Blaise stepped out from the outskirts of the conversation. "Why hasn't the bell rung yet? Shouldn't lunchtime be over by now? Is the clock schedule messed up or something?"

"Hey you're right, Vivien," Cedric gasped. "We _do _have all day!"

Blaise scowled. "My name is Blaise!"

"Hey Harry, we do have _all _day," Cedric exclaimed.

Harry frowned. "What do you mean?"

"The clock schedule is off by two hours because of the _prank_!" Cedric mouthed.

OoOoO

"I must admit that prank was well played," Flamel remarked as soon as Harry sat down. It had been three days since the encounter with the Slytherin girls. Three whole days had passed since the clock prank. Three whole days of carefully crafted chaos courtesy of the Maraudeteers. Flamel had only recently been able to fix the grand clock.

Harry smiled openly. "I knew that you would find out eventually. And honestly, I hadn't intended for the faculty to take so long to fix it."

"Some things go far out of our reach sometimes," Flamel said. Harry noted that what the headmaster was important. He wrote down Flamel's quote in his green diary. Flamel was pleased with the action. "Have you been practicing?"

Harry's face drained off all color. "Um . . . a bit."

Flamel frowned. He had been so sure that Harry would have perfected the charms that he had been assigned the last time they met that he wasn't ready for resignation on Harry's part. "Summon your quill from your room using the _Accio _charm."

"Erm . . . I'm still working on the summoning charm. I . . . don't have the hang of it yet."

Flamel nodded wistfully. "I see. Well, what is the incantation for the spell?"

Harry bit his bottom lip. "Um . . . 'Accio'." He remembered it from when his godfather used to use the charm, not because he'd studied the spell or anything like that.

Flamel sighed. Maybe Harry really _had _been working hard and had been unable to digest the material. "And what is the proper wrist movement we talked about last session?"

Harry looked down at the green diary in his lap and was about to scour through it but the headmaster wandlessly closed the diary shut and summoned it to his desk. "Please refrain from using your notes."

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "Um . . . I don't know the wrist movements, sir."

Flamel nodded. "I see." He looked a bit disappointed. "Have you discovered your base emotion yet?"

Harry fidgeted under Flamel's gaze. "Erm . . . I didn't get the chance to do so."

The headmaster sighed. He was very disappointed. The air around him getting more humid was a sign of this. "Harry, what is today?"

"Um . . . December twelfth."

Flamel nodded. "And how long has it been since our last session?"

"A couple of weeks at least, sir."

Flamel nodded once more. "And you are saying that you didn't have time to practice, even with so much time off?"

"I've been really busy, sir."

Flamel observed Harry's raw emotions and heaved a sigh upon examining the results. Harry was lying. An apprentice lying to his master was a very bad sign of a deteriorating relationship. "Harry, just because we have been meeting so infrequently doesn't mean that you can slack off. I expected better of you."

Harry looked at the ground. "I just had a lot on my mind."

"Do you think I am that gullible, Harry?" Flamel asked.

Harry gaped. "I-I . . . no honestly, I—"

"Do you understand your importance in this world, Harry?" Flamel asked. "Do you understand that this is real life? That all of this danger is so very viable."

"What do you mean, sir? How am I so important?"

"Do you remember the prophecy? The one between you and Voldemort?"

"Yes sir. The one you told me about in September?"

"Precisely. I hate to be so blunt but your lack of enthusiasm to improve is going to get you killed one day."

"I'm trying . . . sir. I just had so much homework and . . . clubs and . . . I started tutoring Katie Bell in some subjects."

"And with all the work from the Debate team, correct?"

Harry gulped. He was a frog. A frog that didn't jump out of the boiling pan of water in time. "Erm, yeah."

Flamel dreaded the answer to the next question. "What is your affirmative in the Debate team?"

Harry's eyes widened. "Um . . . I . . . don't remember." He hadn't been paying attention to the instructors in the Debate team. He had relied on Draco for most of the sessions.

The air around Flamel crackled. "Please leave my office." It seemed that Harry had tested the headmaster's patience by far too much.

"Wh-what?" Harry asked with a frown.

The door behind him swung open. "When you feel that my expectations have been met, you may return. For now, I cannot begin to teach you any further. Please leave. Our sessions are off."

Harry got up from the chair and left the headmaster's office in a daze. He began to space out as he began to wander the hallways aimlessly.

_It's time to get serious, plumback. _

"I know that," Harry replied woefully, almost regretfully. Almost. "I just don't know how."

_Aw. Poor plumback doesn't know how to navigate the library._

Harry frowned. "What?"

_Nothing plumback. That was obviously not a pathetic excuse for a subliminal hint embedded into a highly sarcastic comment._

Harry's delicate frown turn upside down and his face lit up with relief.

OoOoO

"I'd rather not be here right now." Cedric pointed out. "I was really looking forward to snuggling in my bed tonight."

"Don't you want to do that every day?" Draco asked intuitively.

Cedric rubbed his chin and nodded. "Yeah, you're right. But today's Friday."

Draco suppressed a smile. "No, actually, it's not. Today's Thursday."

"Shut up." Cedric narrowed his eyes. "Nobody asked you."

Harry let out a sigh and set down a stack of three books, each of which was at least two phone books thick. Draco sat down on a desk and let out a yawn. He pointed to the books. "Fancy stuff you got there."

"I was wondering the same thing. Why did you lug along all those books?"

"I need your help finding something." Harry replied.

"Mate, if this is about puberty, please don't ask me." Cedric said.

"Why? You didn't hit puberty yet?" Draco joked.

"No," Cedric scoffed, apparently offended. "It'd be very awkward, that's all."

"Okay 'teers, listen up," Harry broke in. Cedric and Draco turned to Harry. "This is not about puberty or anything like that." Cedric feigned relief. Harry rolled his eyes. "It's about improving techniques with our wands."

Cedric gaped. "Oh mate, you're sick! Talking about each other's wands like that! Next thing you'll know, we'll be comparing the _sizes _of our wands." Cedric folded his arms across his chest.

Draco grinned. "Yeah Harry, I didn't know you were so perverted and into men."

Harry took out both of his wands. "Please guys, let's be serious for a while."

Draco raised his eyebrows and cocked his head. "Is it that serious?"

Harry nodded. "I've been kicked out of Flamel's office."

Cedric's eyes widened. "What?"

Draco frowned genuinely. "That's terrible."

"Yeah," Cedric nodded. "Flamel knows too much about our plans. Now that he's our enemy, our pranks will be doomed!"

Harry ignored Cedric. "I've been slacking off too much. Planning the clock prank took up so much of my free time that I had to set off a lot of other stuff until later. I don't even recall what we did in any of the clubs up until now."

"Well, I covered for you on the Debate team during practices," Draco supplied.

"What are we doing on the Debate team?" Harry asked.

Draco gaped. "You honestly don't know?" Harry shook his head. "We were doing something about the rights of werewolves and half breeds and how the ministry should let them vote and stuff. Where were you for the past month and a half?"

Harry shrugged. "Well, I need to do something and you guys are going to help me do it." Harry sighed. "I need help discovering my base emotion."

"Aw," Cedric crooned. "Harry's sad and needs some antidepressants."

Harry looked at Cedric and growled gutturally. "Fucking shut up, will you?"

Cedric backed up and held up his hands. "Whoa little guy, easy there." Harry was three inches short of Cedric's five-foot-eleven-inch height.

Harry closed his eyes. He rubbed his cranium and opened them again. "Sorry about that Cedric. I just got . . . very out of control there. I'm having a very bad day."

"No problem Harry," Cedric brushed off Harry's strange behavior as nothing. "We've _all _had a tough week." Cedric cleared his throat and looked pointedly at Draco.

Draco threw his hands in the air. "Okay, guys, let's not bring that up _now_. We have stuff to do."

Cedric coughed into the knuckles of his left hand. "Yeah Harry. We'll all learn these . . . wand techniques with you. And base emotional stuff or whatever that is."

Harry nodded. "I was thinking of the three of us improving our magical skills outside of schoolwork. And the best way would be to improve our basic spellwork and by building up a base emotion."

Cedric grinned. "Yeah, we definitely need to get into shape." He brought a hand to his mouth and whispered to Harry, very loudly, "Especially Draco. Those Slytherin babes overwhelmed him in minutes."

Draco shook his head. "Can we please not talk about this right now? It's . . . kind of—"

"Embarrassing? Humiliating? Upsetting? Awkward?" Cedric supplied with a wide grin.

Draco picked up a rusted knut from the cracked floor and threw it in Cedric's direction. Cedric ducked his head just in time. "This boy just keeps on talking, doesn't he?" Draco remarked.

Cedric huffed. "I'm a man, mate, not a _boy_. And—"

"Okay, 'teers, stop quarrelling like little kiddies and act mature for once." Harry interrupted. Surprisingly, both Puffs stopped and looked at Harry. Harry was satisfied for the moment. "Okay, a base emotion is something like the building blocks for magical power reserves. The more efficient and reachable the base emotion, the more efficient and reachable a fully-charged megajoule of your magic is."

"Erm, Professor _Peverell_?" Draco raised his hand and imitated an eager child in class. "Can you start from the beginning?"

"Professor?" Harry asked skeptically.

"Well, you're teaching us something, so you're the professor," Draco piped up.

Harry shrugged and played along. "Well, anyways." He grabbed the second book from the stack of three and opened it to a bookmarked page. "Emotions – or rather, _raw _emotions – are key to raw magic and power. The better the bridge between your emotions and your magic, the better of a magician you become because you are able to control and manipulate magic more proficiently."

Cedric raised his hand. "So, what's the difference between a base emotion and regular emotions, _Professor_ Peverell?"

"Do you secretly get some sort of guilty pleasure by calling me that?" Harry asked.

"Actually, yes I do, Professor Peverell." Cedric said.

"Well, as I understand it and how the book explains it, base emotions are emotions that an individual is rather attached to." Harry looked up from the book. "That's the part I need help with. I don't have a clue as to what the hell that means."

Draco put off his student persona. "Okay Harry, could you explain this whole 'emotions affect magic' thing? Once _we_," Draco pointed to Cedric and himself, "understand what's going on, we'll be glad to help."

Harry sighed and produced his green diary from one of the inner pockets in his Hogwarts robes. "I paraphrased this," Harry opened to page twelve of the diary, "from the Half-Blood Prince's diary. Basically, emotions affect how spells works. If there is no emotion brought to the front of your mind while you're casting a spell, the spell remains neutral.

"But, when you're angry whilst casting the spell, some of the characteristics of the spell change. For example," Harry drew his wand and pointed it at a random desk. "If I focus my mind of nothing but the spell while I'm casting it, it will be neutral. _Diffindo_!" The spell flew across the room and impacted the old desk. A wide slash appeared across the surface of the wooden table.

"Aren't you damaging school property?" Cedric asked.

"Nobody goes in here. It's abandoned, remember?" Draco supplied the answer.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. And now, observe as I focus anger into my spell." Harry closed his eyes and concentrated on spiteful memories. He opened his eyes and bellowed, "_Diffindo!"_ The spell impacted the same desk but had much more devastating effects. The spell created a small hole on the surface, forming cracks all around it.

"Whoa." Cedric gawked. "Brilliant." He turned to Harry. "Teach me."

Harry smiled. "Yeah, well this requires a lot of practice. I haven't done this too much. If I were to practice this spell well enough using just this emotion, I could probably blow up the desk. Obliterate it to pieces."

Draco nodded. "I get it. So, you're searching for the right emotion? The base emotion?"

Harry felt a bit lightheaded and blinked his eyes tightly. "Yeah. You know the spell I just casted? Well, it drained me of so much of my magic that . . . I can't concentrate on my surroundings anymore." Harry stopped and sat down on the floor. "I feel extremely dizzy."

"So you're looking for the most efficient emotion." Draco concluded. "One that would supercharge your spells, give it some oomph, and drain the least of your magic?"

"Exactly," Harry mumbled into his hand. He drooped his head and finally collapsed on the ground.

"Are you okay?" Cedric asked.

"Yeah," Harry raised his hand. "Just really tired."

"Maybe we should go to bed now," Cedric suggested eagerly.

Harry instantly got to his feet. "Definitely not!" He swayed on his feet and sat back down regretfully. "We're not leaving this room until we've all got the gist of our emotions."

"But you're a mess. That spell drained you of all your magic." Cedric retaliated. "You said so yourself."

Harry groaned. He brought out a dozen vials from his pocket. "Luckily, I brought along some vials of Pepper-Up potion." He uncorked a vial and took a swig. "Isn't that convenient?"

"But this could take forever!" Draco added. "There's got to be hundreds of emotions that you can choose from. We'll have to do trial-and-error to get the base emotion."

Harry took in a deep breath and opened his eyes. "But that's why I have all these books."

Cedric wrinkled his nose. "I don't know how to read, mate. Count me out of this."

"Very funny, Cedric," Harry smiled and tossed him a vial of Pepper-up potion. "Drink some. It'll help."

Draco looked at the big stack of books. "How are we going to look through five thousand pages in one night?"

Harry shuffled to his feet. "We're not. I bookmarked certain pages that seem more important than others."

Cedric gulped down the potion and shook his head from side to side, his silky brown hair falling just above his eyelashes. "Hey, this really does work." He jumped up in place and jogged over to the stack of books. "I'm ready to read sergeant."

Harry smiled and assigned his friends a different book. "There's three really big books. There's three of us. Each one of us has to look through the bookmarked pages thoroughly."

"You think we'll make it out of here alive?" Cedric whispered to Draco.

Draco grinned. "I don't know about you mate, but I'm sticking to Harry."

Cedric grumbled. "Darn your loyalty."

Harry smiled. "Thanks mates. Okay, before we start searching, I have something to show you all something else. It might help." Harry flipped through one of the textbooks and stopped at the page featuring a picture of a white tiger. "This is the _Patronus _Charm. I don't know why, but I believe that this is important somehow."

Draco scrutinized his gaze on the picture. "Wait, let me see this for a second." Harry handed Draco the page.

Cedric craned his neck to get a better view of the picture. "You know, I always wanted to learn a really fancy spell. This definitely fits my description of a fancy spell. We should learn it together!"

Harry shook his head. "Maybe afterwards. But now, we have to learn how to boost our emotions and control our base emotion. It'll be much easier to learn other spells once we get a hold of our base emotion. That's one of the upsides of learning your base emotion at a young age—you have an easier time handling new spells."

"No wait," Draco interrupted. Harry and Cedric looked at the boy. "Cedric's right. We should learn the _Patronus _charm as soon as possible."

Harry frowned. "Why?"

Draco pointed to a paragraph on the page. "This spell requires the use of powerful memories."

Harry frowned. "And what does that have to do with emotions?"

Draco sighed. "Don't you get it?" Harry shook his head. "Powerful memories are those that contain lots of emotion. If you learn how to produce a _patronus_ on your own, you'll learn how to control memories with lots of emotion."

Harry scratched his head. "I don't get it."

"Once you produce the strongest and brightest _patronus_, you'll know which memory you're using, correct?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "And what does that mean?"

"Each memory you use centers on some sort of an emotion."

Cedric opened his mouth and chuckled. "You're brilliant, Drake."

Harry frowned. "I still don't understand."

Draco sighed. "Okay, look: the strongest memory will obviously contain the strongest emotion. So, that will be your base emotion."

Harry began to process the information. "I'm afraid I don't get it."

Cedric grinned. "Okay listen here mate." Harry turned towards Cedric. "Patronus equals memory." Harry nodded. "Memory equals powerful memory." Harry nodded. "Powerful memory equals emotion." Harry nodded. "Emotion equals powerful emotion." Harry nodded uncertainly. "Powerful emotion equals very strong emotion." Harry frowned. "Very strong emotion equals to base emotion."

"Erm," Harry bit his tongue. "I'm afraid that you lost me with all those equal signs."

Draco grinned and slapped Harry's back. "Just trust us on this one." Harry smiled back and shrugged.

Cedric got up and pulled his sleeves up. "Let's get to it."

OoOoO

**Meanwhile…**

Lady Destiny smiled. "I'm so proud of them! His friends are helping him out so much! I'm so proud of Harry. He has a good taste in friendship."

Lady Fate rolled her eyes. "Please. This Patronus Charm thing isn't going to work. Lord Luck's a fraud."

Lady Destiny gently pushed Lady Fate. "Oh shut it, you."

Suddenly, Lord Time rushed into the living room. His face looked different. "Someone's here to see you, Destiny."

"Someone's here to see me?" Destiny asked.

Lord Time nodded. That was when she noticed it. Lord Time looked worried.

* * *

AN1: This is the longest chapter up-to-date. I put much thought into some of the parts, others not so much. But that's not why I updated one month late. It was due to AP exams and finals (I'm still taking a few more finals next week) and an injury. When my friend told me to break a leg when I entered the exam room, I literally did—right after the test was done. Yeah, well anyways, review as always.

AN2: Thanks to all the reviewers and people to put this on alert and whatnot. Reviewers are always appreciated: Sweet Heavens (background detail is mostly going to be Draco-Greengrass rivalry from now on); god of all; Aaron Leech; WhiteElfElder; Awsomeness7; Hanzo the Salamander; DudeZx; Capt. H.M Murdock (hopefully, this story will evolve into something much more unique); Goldencoyote; Miz636; Penny is wise; Zeromaru Chaos Mode; dark zeus

AN3: If this is a hint in any way, then by all means analyze this. Dragonboy: The Destined Sage


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